


The Whims of a World-Altering Miracle

by Tas_tan



Category: Original Work
Genre: /ss/, Anal, Creampie, F/M, Fat Ass, Hospital, Lactation, MILF, Milking, Paizuri, Reality control, Shota, Titjob, handjob, onee/shota, perverse clothing, slutwear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 64,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24637327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tas_tan/pseuds/Tas_tan
Summary: An extremely young child named Nicol is brought back from the brink of death within a medical facility specialising in pediatrics. Something about his accident results in the primarily-female hospital staff around him becoming unable to refuse any of his requests--no matter how sexual or obscene. For that matter, the entire world around him becomes very willing to bend itself to his increasingly-questionable whims.But why?
Relationships: A child/A bunch of adult women
Comments: 9
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**SERIN FACILITY—FOREWORD**

Specialized medical facilities equipped with the resources (personnel, materials, etc) to facilitate the recovery of specially-afflicted individuals are few and far between. More often than not, the cost of maintaining such facilities relative to the odds that they will be required by the general population on a consistent basis discourages the majority of hospitals from seeking out the funding that are required to produce them. Consequently, larger and more centrally located hospitals typically bear the burden of establishing these facilities (as they maintain the capital and justification for doing so), whereas smaller outliers instead equip themselves with the means to transport local patients in need of these facilities to them as quickly as possible.

An example of one such specialized facility is the Serin Facility embedded into M. Ulster General Hospital. Dedicated to the health and rehabilitation of children aged from 3 to 15, the existence of this wing has accelerated the recovery of thousands of uniquely-ill children throughout its 5 year lifespan. Between the bed space that it maintains (a number recently expanded to a maximum of 700) and the medical specialists attached to it, the facility is considered by most to be a hospital inside of a hospital. Not only are the children admitted to it cared for by superlatively-trained nurses throughout the duration of their stays, but the enclosed nature of its location spares them from consistent interaction with the hospital facilities that surround them. This ensures that younger children are not exposed to the more gruesome realities of a large-scale medical facility whilst also ensuring that the facility’s staff are not thinned by the needs of other areas throughout the hospital.

If costly, the Serin Facility is presently considered as an investment well-founded and returned. More broadly, the experimental medical data provided by its patients has provided pediatric experts worldwide with the information required to develop more effective treatment strategies for the children of the future.

Needless to say, no one realization of specialized medical care is perfect. For as many unique cases as the facility solves successfully, an equivalent number leave its personnel stumped as to concrete treatment plans for the children afflicted. This is not to say that more children perish within the wing than are saved; such a mortality rate would remove all justification for its existence within a year. Rather, these ‘difficult cases’ are those that require afflicted children to remain within the wing for extended periods of time whilst rehabilitative (or palliative) care plans are developed for them.

Occasionally, however, the plight of a child brought into its midst is so overwhelmingly novel that the adoption of a ‘wait and see’ approach is necessitated. For example, there exists an un-named patient brought back from the brink of certain death by the efforts of the facility’s personnel whose treatment purportedly consisted of nothing at all.

On his release, no records of the symptoms he displayed or the reason for which he remained within the wing for so long were available for perusal. According to the professionals in charge of him, what was wrong with him was never determined, nor was a means of fixing it ever specified—thus leaving them with nothing to record. When pressed for justification as to how a supposedly-ill child might display no worthwhile symptoms, further inquiry into the case was unilaterally blocked by the facility’s presiding director.

As curious and questionable a circumstance as this is, its existence corroborates the single most agreed upon fact about the facility itself:

All ill children who enter it eventually leave well.

-

**Serin Facility—11:30am June 4th**

Every few days around noon hour, the sound of humming as blended with the smooth roll of a medical cart’s wheels against the ground consumes the halls of the Serin Facility. Airy and endearing, those who attend to this sound (a fortunate fraction of the facility’s patients) are typically rewarded for the effort with the delivery of their lunch by a cheerful young woman. On a given day, the exact point in time at which she delivers their lunch varies. The sound of her humming and the smile on her face, however, do not. On days wherein patients hear the former, they will inevitably see the latter at some point throughout the lunch hour.

The only question is when.

Blissfully unaware of this association is Nurse Mirielia Truaste—the woman to which this hum and smile belong. A mild and warm woman owning a neck length bob of dense, chestnut-colored hair and a somewhat airheaded demeanor, her projection of these things (humming and smiling) is not something that she pays much attention to. Worse still, each day that she is assigned to the task of delivering lunches is one wherein preoccupation and anticipation temper her thoughts. On these days, the task in and of itself is merely another of the many assigned to the specially-assigned nurses of the facility. A forgettable means to a desirable end.

Like her humming and smile, the ‘end’ sought by Mirielia during these days is constant. When all but one of the lunches she distributes remain, she discards her cart, and takes up this lone tray by hand. This done, she proceeds directly to the wing’s juvenile ward, prunes her hair just slightly in the midst of collecting herself, and afterwards moves on to make her final delivery.

Most of the way through her latest day of lunch duty, Mirielia intended to repeat this process. She had prepared dessert for her patient, unbuttoned the neck seal of her uniform, and had even picked up a picture book that she had recalled him favoring several weeks prior. However, mere steps away from entering his room, her process was abbreviated.

Someone had beaten her to him—someone familiar.

“Vanessa? What’re you doing here?” stopped dead in her tracks, Mirielia addressed her co-worker with genuine astonishment in her voice and on her face. “You’re supposed to be on the 6th floor today! Unless…”

“Don’t tell me you came down to see him just because you knew I was going to?”

Caught red-handed, an embarrassed smile spread across the woman addressed as Vanessa. Stunned at her co-worker’s arrival, she stuck the tip of her tongue out from between her lips, and bowed ever-so-slightly in repentance.

In doing so, the differences between the pair were highlighted. Though both women were clad in the same soft pink nurse’s uniform mandated for those assigned to the facility, Vanessa stood several inches taller than her younger co-worker. Gifted with a vibrant excess of jet-black, back-length hair whose bangs uniformly sloped from the right side of her face across her left-eye, her appearance was decidedly more mature-seeming than Mirielia’s as well.

After her bow, she set her right hand atop the right-side curvature of her hips, then raised her gaze back up towards Mirielia’s.

This done, she grinned.

“Ahaha, I guess you caught me.” she giggled. “No one was assigned to check in on him after breakfast, so I kind of jumped at the opportunity. He’s just so sweet, you know?”

While acceptant of her co-worker’s reasoning, Mirielia was not particularly understanding of it. Donning a pout, the end of Vanessa’s response saw her resume her ingress towards the door she had come out from with an annoyed urgency.

“Well, fine. You’re done now though, right? It’s time for him to eat lunch, and **I’m** assigned to that.” she retorted, sharply. “It’s fine if you check in on him later, but I’m going to do this by myself.”

At this, Vanessa’s grin became an awkward smile again.

“A-About that…” she began, tersely.

“What?”

“I promised him I’d be coming back with lunch. I think he’ll be sad if I just don’t come back without saying something first.”

Initially, Vanessa’s words filled Mirielia with further displeasure. But, upon considering the happiness of the patient to which she had referred, this discontentment melted into a mild (and manageable) form of frustration.

“Fine, I guess we don’t have a choice…” she muttered. “We’ll play a game together while I give him lunch, but then you’ve got to leave, okay? His physician is going to be visiting in a little while, but I want to be able to read him a story before that.”

Content with the terms set, Vanessa stepped away from her position ahead of the door and strolled past Mirielia to take up one directly behind her.

“That’s the spirit! Thanks so much, though. I’ll try not to visit so close to lunch next time, haha.” she chirped.

Made to exhale yet again, Mirielia shook her head and resumed her stride towards the door.

“Yeah, says you and everyone else who can’t seem to help but drop in. Isn’t the whole point of us having rotations to make sure that stuff like this doesn’t happen?” she complained.

“Yes, and? We can’t own patients, Mirielia. As long as he’s here, we **all** have to look after him.” Vanessa retorted.

“B-But that’s n—”

“We can argue about it later, okay? Now’s not the time for us to be frowning.”

A single step past the electronic sliding door that separated them from their patient, Mirielia recalled the meaning behind Vanessa’s words. Peering to her right, she found something that turned the frustration on her face into adoration, and plated a cheerful greeting at the back of her throat.

It was him—the source of her excitement.

“Vani!! Oh, n’Miri, too! Good afternoon!” a juvenile voice chirped. “I missed you!”

“Hiiiii Nicol~! Good afternoon to you, too!” Mirielia cooed, warmly. “You guessed it—it’s lunch time! Vanessa told me that you were extra polite with her today, so we’re both gonna work together to give you a special treat, okay?”

Mirielia couldn’t help herself. Faced with the bed-spread patient she so adored, her voice and demeanor became more girlish, and her desire to think about her co-worker’s slight all but vanished. She did not know why—she didn’t care to know why. In that moment, her only desire was to be the nurse that the child ahead of her needed.

Vanessa was no different.

“It’s gonna be so much fun, Nicol! Good boys who’re polite deserve lots of fun and attention, so I thought this would be way better than just bringing your lunch!” Vanessa explained, words directly following Mirielia’s address. “While Mirielia feeds you, we’re gonna play a super fun game! The winner gets something extra **extra** special, so make sure to try your best!”

Like her co-worker, the demeanor that Vanessa projected towards the boy at the center of the room was decidedly more juvenile than what she had presented to Mirielia outside the room. Partly influenced by her training as a nurse and otherwise dominated by the affection that she held towards the boy, she unconsciously adjusted herself to appear as loving and endearing a nurse as possible.

Like this, the boy that they had addressed as Nicol was presented with an all-too-familiar sight for his lunch hour. Visually a dark-haired child no older than 3-4 years old (but in truth approximately 7-and-a-half years of age), Nicol had long since come to terms with the fact that Mirielia and Vanessa adjusted their behavior around him to match his apparent age. Knowing why they were acting the way that they were did not make their demeanors any less endearing, however. Having been subjected to their coddling from the day that they had met, Nicol happily reciprocated their displays each and every time he was met with them. If slightly embarrassing, the status quo was comfortable; doing away with it for the sake of appropriateness seemed purposeless relative to embracing it.

Thus, directly after the pair’s address, he raised both of his hands into the air, and quietly exclaimed just as a mild-mannered toddler should’ve.

“Yayyyy!” he cheered, eyes closed in what appeared to be celebration. “What kinda game are we gonna play? Can it be like th’ ones Miri lets me play on her phone thingy sometimes?”

Deep down, Nicol knew that it was unlikely that Vanessa had such a simple game in mind. In the first place, a smartphone game wouldn’t require more than one person to play. For that matter, most of the nurses he interacted with intentionally selected games wherein the two of them (or in this case, three) would interact.

Ingrained with such expectations, he did not display a hint of disappointment when Mirielia and Vanessa nestled their way up to seats atop the bed space to either side of him without a word of explanation. Here, Mirelia set his lunch tray atop his lap and began unearthing its recently-warmed contents from underneath their plastic covers. Differently, Vanessa spent her time nuzzling closer to his left side whilst unearthing a deck of playing cards from one of the frontal pockets of her nurse uniform.

As far as Nicol could tell, the game that they would be playing had him as its focal point. Presented with a clue in the form of Vanessa’s cards, he slanted his gaze towards her and parted his lips to speak on it. But, before words could leave his mouth, something sweet and creamy entered them.

Cake.

“Do you like it, Nicol? It’s cheesecake!” Mirielia began, smiling. “I wanted to get you something that wasn’t pudding or cookies for a change. You don’t have to worry about what your doctor says, either; polite boys should get to have dessert before their meals sometimes, don’t you think?”

Beset by a combination of flavors he hadn’t enjoyed since long before his entry into the facility, Nicol became genuinely enamoured with the cake pressed into his mouth. After peeling his lips off of the fork atop which his mouthful had been plated, he subsequently nodded his head in confirmation of Mirielia’s question.

At the sight of this, Mirielia produced yet another warm giggle.

“Hehe, I thought you might ♥. In that case, I’ll try to bring it for you more often. No telling your doctor though, okay?” she offered. “Now: say ‘aaaah’ please ♥.”

Per her request, Nicol again parted his lips in preparation for her hand to carry another forkful of cheesecake between them. Briefly, following through with her request and focusing on the flavors within his mouth proved distracting enough for him to forget the woman off to his left.

Ignorant to the bliss that had consumed him, Vanessa proved more than happy to remind him. Amidst his second mouthful, she pulled a blank card from her deck up to a point ahead of his line sight, then turned her head to begin speaking directly into his left ear.

“ _We’re gonna play ‘spelling bee’, ‘kay_?” following the wispy delivery of these words into his ear, she returned to her initial position so as to project her voice towards Mirielia as well. “When you get big enough to go to school, this is something you’re gonna do a lot. You may not know many words right now, but the more you can learn, the easier it’ll be when you finally get to go home.”

“Plus, there’s the special prize! If you win, _who knows_ what you might get ♥.”

Vanessa’s decision to suggest spelling as a game to a child barely old enough to talk was one influenced by her knowledge of how such a ‘game’ was likely to turn out. Clever as Nicol had proved himself to be, the odds of him having heard—much less being able to spell—the child-appropriate words she had collected were slim to none. In all likelihood, he’d cutely stumble over every word that she presented before frustrating himself into a fit of crying that would require her to console him.

Inexplicably aroused by the possibility of such a result, she responded to the clueless nod Nicol produced in response to her explanation with an immediate surge into the game.

Coincidentally, this just so happened to coincide with her angling her chest far enough inward relative to Nicol’s front to squish the uncovered face of his bicep with the clothed fat of her breasts.

“Okidoke! Word#1: Apple!” she chirped.

Silent amidst his chewing of another mouthful of cake, Nicol responded the moment he had enough leeway to not be considered as ‘speaking with his mouthful’.

“A-P-P-L-E. Issat right?” he replied.

Rendered more so ecstatic at the boy’s correct answer than confused, Vanessa beamed a proud smile in towards Nicol’s face and nodded her head.

“That’s right! You’re so smart, Nicol!” she cooed. “The next one’s going to be a little harder so let’s try….” yet again, Vanessa peeled a card from her deck, peaked at it, and held its blank side up ahead of Nicol’s face.

“Automobile!”

Yet again, Nicol intentionally chewed and swallowed his latest mouthful of food before responding.

“A-U-T-O-M-O-B-I-L-E?” he replied, cautiously.

“Wow, right again! How did you know that one? Even older boys have trouble with it sometimes!”

Nicol considered reminding Vanessa that he was one such ‘older boy’, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, he simply shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth in anticipation of yet another bite of lunch from Mirielia.

Content all the same, Vanessa continued with a giggle.

“Then how about… Pizza!”

“P-I-Z-Z-A.”

“Bicycle!”

“B-I-C-Y-L-E.”

“Grape!”

“G-R-A-P-E.”

“Syringe!”

“S-Y-R-I-N-G-E.”

The remainder of his lunch continued precisely like this. For each word that Vanessa presented, Nicol managed to produce its correct spelling without visible difficulty. Both Mirielia and Vanessa would applaud, and wait with baited breath to see whether or not he’d manage the next one similarly.

When Vanessa was brought down to her final card, the stage seemed set for an innocuous end to an innocuous game. Opting to prepare for whatever might come to pass, she slanted a knowing glance towards Mirielia prior to presenting her final card.

“Dog!”

Like all of the words before it that had come before it, Nicol began spelling it out letter by letter as though he had been told the word in advance.

“D-O-J—”

Swiftly as he had started, he was not allowed to finish. Right as he began to sound out the word’s final letter, a gentle impression of two pairs of breasts against both sides of his face prevented him from completing the utterance. These breasts were neither fully clothed, nor fully exposed. Whereas one pair was neatly packaged into a white brassiere modestly decorated with pink polka dots, the others were just barely contained by two undersized, smoke-grey cups utterly inundated with titflesh. As a result, both sets of cleavage impressed a fraction of bare breast flesh against one side of his face, and exposed his nostrils to the sweet, hormone-riddled aromas of two healthy female frames.

The owners of these breasts were none other than Mirielia and Vanessa. Primed from the moment Nicol had begun to spell, both women unhooked the necks of their uniforms and wrenched the garments downward and outwards until their breasts simply spilled out of them. Then, without a hint of shame of discomfort towards the act, they intentionally dipped downwards, then inwards to see their chests mushed up against Nicol’s skull.

Inappropriate as the acts seemed, both women produced this act with the understanding that their doing so was completely natural. In the past, Nicol had complimented both of them on the softness and warmth of their breasts, and regularly commented on how much he enjoyed occasions that allowed for him to rest atop them. As such, an impromptu smothering of his skull between his two favorite resting spots struck them both as the best prize that they could provide him.

Nicol’s reaction to their approach supported this conclusion as well. Unbothered by the initial suddenness of his sandwiching, content giggles soon began streaming from his mouth one after another. Hearing these, both women became certain that they had made the right choice.

“You won the game, Nicol! Great job, sweetie ♥.” began Vanessa. “It sounds like you like your prize, too. Then again, you’ve always liked soft boobs haven’t you?”

Though incapable of turning his head to face her, this did not stop Nicol from confirming her suspicions. First producing a slight nod of his head, he subsequently addressed both women with his gaze cast towards the front of the room.

“Mhm! Thank you! I love spelling now, haha.” he replied, voice muffled by the flesh nearest his lips. “Oh, hi Dr. Ledh! Look—I won spelling!”

Without warning, Nicol uttered the name of an individual that should not have been present to address. Immediately confused, both Mirielia and Vanessa turned their heads towards the front of the room in search of a cause for the boy’s outburst.

What they found was Dr. Ledh. White coat draped over his shoulders and tablet in hand, the middle-aged male stood in the midst of a flat-faced stare straight back at them.

Recognizing his presence should have struck fear into their hearts. On top of their positions violating a number of rules regarding the treatment of young patients, they also constituted perverse and illegal behavior with a vulnerable minor. At the very least, the sight of him should have pulled them from Nicol’s side and into a furious attempt at explanation.

It didn’t. Once certain that they were looking at the right person, both girls squished their breasts against Nicol’s face with even more energy.

“Sorry, doctor! Nicol won a very special prize today—we’ll let you see him in just a minute.” Mirielia teased.

“It’ll just be a little longer!” added Vanessa. “I’ve updated his medical chart already, so maybe you can kill some time with that?”

As if to reciprocate their indifference, the doctor did not respond to either of their greetings.

He simply stared back at them. Not as a man fighting to suppress his discomfort, but as one completely indifferent to what he was looking at.

**-**

**_Nicol — Patient Symptomatology & Rehabilitation Record_ **

_-Maintained and authored by Dr. Hector Ledh, Senior Pediatric Specialist. To be deleted at his discretion._

_Day 1: The patient was found without vital signs after recovery from the banks of a river during the month of December 2xxx. Presumed unsalvageable upon discovery, the absence of frostbite in his extremities prompted paramedics called to the scene to attempt resuscitation. A pulse was obtained enroute to airlift, and was maintained throughout his transport to the Serin Facility. On arrival, Dr. Ledh (henceforth I) was named as his primary physician and was also selected to perform emergency corrective surgery to remove shattered fragments of ribcage from the patient’s body cavity. Following removal, temporary implants were grafted to his skeleton to facilitate regeneration and growth in the event of long term survival. Following the notification of guardians, the patient was afterwards placed on artificial respiration and subsequently monitored for recovery from the procedures._

_Day 32: The patient’s body acclimated to the implants and shows no signs of rejection or infection. 3 weeks after being placed on artificial respiration, nurses reported signage of his attempting to breath on his own. After acquiring his parents’ consent, a test was performed to determine whether or not his ability to breathe on his own had returned. He passed without difficulty. As neurological scans taken throughout the preceding 30 days have displayed promising signs of brain function, the odds of his making a partial recovery have improved markedly._

_Day 119: 60 days following admittance to Serin, the patient (henceforth Nicol) regained consciousness. Within a single session of prompting he recalled his name, the names of his parents, and his own age. In the weeks that followed, I personally confirmed that most if not all of his cognitive faculties have remained intact, and reached out to the neurology department for further confirmation. At this time, news of his recovery was relayed to his parents. So as not to aggravate his recovery and rehabilitation, I advised against their interacting with him until his recovery is complete. The odds of a child surviving such life-threatening injuries without some form of change are slim—I wish to spare them disappointment should his condition suddenly deteriorate. With their consent, I will petition for him to remain a patient within this facility until all doubts as to his condition are cleared._

_Day 170: Nicol is a very interesting child. Within a month of his regaining consciousness, he has garnered the adoration of most every female nurse assigned to him. The specialists overseeing his rehabilitation have no difficulty communicating with him as though he were an adult, and often go out of their way to ensure that the full picture of his health is conveyed to him. I’ve pressed each of them as to why; their answers ranged from indifference as to keeping the truth from him to rebuttals detailing his maturity._

_Children developing beyond their years is not uncommon, and truth be told, my own interactions with him have felt similarly meaningful in spite of his youth._

_One thing concerns me, however._

_While the female nursing staff and female physicians he interacts with still elect to handle him as a near-toddler, all of them—regardless of their age, experience, relationship status, or preference—defer to his requests. No matter how outlandish or perverse, every woman that he requests something of provides him with this ‘thing’ with a smile and a nod. As well, they were more than happy to validate these decisions when asked. Whereas some cite his recovery process as deserving special treatment, others claim that complying with his requests—even in cases wherein their actions become common knowledge to their coworkers—feels better than refusing._

_Stranger still, the male and female staff members peripheral to these women do not bat an eyelash at any of their coworkers’ behavior. In the months that have passed since the beginning of Nicol’s requests, those surroundings these events have come to regard them as the norm._

_Sane young adults and accredited medical practitioners would not produce such seamless behavior under duress. For that matter, Nicol hasn’t had contact with anyone outside of the Serin Facility in nearly half a year. Assuming he is capable of blackmail, he’s nothing of value with which to dictate to them with._

_I have ordered investigatory blood work alongside Nicol’s most recent set of blood tests to determine whether or not this ability of his has a biological basis. In the meantime, I hope to find an opportunity to discuss these things with him personally._

_Day 200: Since my last entry, I have spoken with Nicol on a weekly basis. As I thought, his requests are not so much malicious as they are ignorant. The requests that he makes are intentional, but the fact that the women around him comply is largely out of his hands._

_Contained within his blood is a mixture of male hormone and oxytocin that would be toxic for a male 4 times his age. I theorize that this mixture has reached a level of concentration sufficient for consistent secretion through his sweat. Were a woman to smell enough of this odorless concoction for a long enough period of time, it is not impossible to argue that maternal instinct and reproductive desire are being coaxed from them with Nicol as their sole focus._

_Outlandish a theory as this is, it is one of very few I can make sense of. The fact that it does not account for the indifference displayed by the males around him speaks against its viability, but I cannot help but feel as though I will find a potential explanation for this as well._

_To ensure that no trouble comes of this in the future, I have named Nicol as a privileged patient within the Nicol wing. None would believe my theory if I presented it to them, nor am I inclined to believe it myself. All the same, Nicol and the women he comes into contact with must not be punished for the actions that they perform. With his status, everything he does can be put aside until he is well enough to be discharged from the facility._

_Until then, I will continue my discourse with him to determine whether or not his abilities are some inborn, or something abnormal that has blighted his frame since the day he was submerged in that river…_

**-**

**SERIN FACILITY—FUNCTIONALITY**

Much like any other medical facility, the daily functionality of Serin is dependent on the maintenance of equilibrium. For every cutting-edge surgical or rehabilitative tool brought into it, a given number of operators and technicians must be brought in to maintain them. Similarly, for every medical expert crammed into its midst, a sufficient number of support staff must join him/her if they are to do their job effectively. If these resources that the facility so prides itself on—the veritable backbones of its existence—are not properly supplemented, the facility as a whole is liable to collapse under its own weight.

Recognizing this, a robust training program for temporary volunteers and new hires was introduced into the Serin Facility by its administrative staff within a month of its inception. So as to continually ‘top up’ its operating numbers and widen its pool of potential new hires, senior staff members are regularly assigned volunteers to train in their duties, cooperative education students interested in the fields themselves, and junior employees gifted the opportunity to begin their careers within one of the world’s largest (and most effective) pediatric facilities.

Due to the sheer volume of patients that the facility maintains, the majority of these ‘trainees’ are nurses. Typically females aged from their late teens to middle twenties, scores of these young women can be found strewn out across the facility’s floors busying themselves with menial tasks or directly assisting senior staff members in providing care for the facility’s patients.

As a result of the numbers brought into the ward and the relative efficiency with which these numbers are turned into permanent and occasional staff members, the facility’s training programs are recognized colloquially as a “one-way door of healthy young women”. To what extent the title holds in reality can be argued, but the fact remains that if one is looking for a female medical trainee, the Serin Facility is as good a place to start as any…

-

**SERIN FACILITY—MONDAY JULY 7TH—MORNING**

“Yup! That’s pretty much all there is to it.” Mirielia began, smiling. “You’ll have plenty of chances to try on your own, so you don’t have to worry about getting it right the first time. In fact, if you have any questions about any of this, maybe now would be a good time for me to try to answer them?”

“We’ll be working together pretty regularly for the next little while, so the more you know, the easier it’ll be for both of us.”

  
These words were the first uttered by Mirielia Truaste in several minutes spent guiding her new co-worker.

Initially, she had shrunk at the news that she was to take someone under her wing. Competency at one’s job and the ability to convey its inner workings to another person were two very different skills—this much had been made obvious to her in what time she had spent in college. The first few months of her time within the facility had renewed her belief in the existence of such multi-talented individuals; without their help, she never would have managed in the first place. Nevertheless, the odds of her one day becoming such a person herself seemed slim in her mind.

Upon finally meeting her junior peer and initiating her first formal tour through the facility, Mirielia’s belief in herself ceased to matter. In her desperation, she focused on emulating the instructive experience that had been provided to her as best she could whilst making sure her new co-worker was shown everything she needed to see. Before long, her commitment to these things allowed her to forget the fact that she was ‘teaching’ at all. Then and there, she may as well have been escorting a friend through her rounds purely for the sake of it.

Unbeknownst to her, the comfort that had consumed her had as much to do with her trainee as it did with her own innate abilities. A mild and reserved young woman just shy of 20 years of age, Morgan Stellar possessed a disposition that was not only teachable, but complimentary to her teacher’s brighter nature. Throughout the entirety of Mirielia’s instruction, she watched closely for the nuances embedded into her tasks-to-be, and the general layout of the facility that she was to traverse—all without a single inquiry as to what she was seeing.

Only when directly prompted to produce a question did Morgan turn her attention to making inquiries. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have any—really, she had several. The trouble was determining which of them was worthwhile to ask Mirielia about with only a moment’s notice to deliberate.

Ultimately, she decided to inquire about something she had seen recently: a door, and a title attached to it.

“Um, in that case…” she began, quietly. “What is a ‘privileged patient’? On one of the doors we passed, I saw that title on top of the patient’s name. I’ve tried to familiarize myself with the terms used to describe patients here, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen that one before…”

Coincidentally, this question was one that her teacher was situated to answer more aptly than most. As soon as she caught wind of its meaning, Mirielia’s features brightened, and her frame surged forward towards Morgan’s front.

Without a moment’s notice, Morgan found herself being dragged along behind Mirielia by her dominant hand.

“To answer that properly, I think we should go pay the little guy a visit. Knowing him, getting to meet you should really put a smile on his face, too!” Mirielia chirped, legs already in the midst of a wistful stride.

Understandably confused, Morgan spoke out against this the moment that she was able.

“M-Meet who?”

“Our privileged patient!” turning back to beam a heart-warmingly mild smile back at her co-worker, it seemed as though simply uttering these words had altered Mirielia’s mood for the better. “The reason you’ve never seen the title before is because it was only recently developed. There is only a single patient in the entire facility that it applies to, too.”

With this, Morgan felt that only a portion of her question had been answered. Despite her concerns as to what she was about to see, she continued gently pressing Mirielia for the other half of her answer as they walked.

“O-Oh, I see. But, ah, why is this patient—why is he privileged, exactly?”

Yet again, Mirielia did not require any ‘thinking time’ to produce an answer.

“Well, officially, the explanation relates to why he ended up here in the first place. Dr. Ledh and a team of other physicians worked for months to improve his condition to this point, and the level of recovery that he’s displayed reflects that. To ensure that he makes a full recovery, it was decided that he should have as much comfort and freedom as is possible—or so Dr. Ledh says, anyway…”

Towards the trailing point of her utterance, Mirielia’s dragging of Morgan returned the pair to a position opposite Nicol’s door. Here, she knocked gently against its smooth exterior with her right hand before dipping it into one of her uniform’s front pockets and unearthing a key card. After waving its face adjacent to the door frame’s edge, the subsequent exposure of the room’s interior saw her draw her companion inside along with her, and finally release her hand.

This done, she turned to her and smiled.

“None of that is why I think he’s special, though. To me, Nicol is my privileged patient because he is absolutely adorable ♥.”

Initially focused on Mirielia as opposed to the room around her, the affection that bled from her tone turned Morgan’s attention towards the patient bed ahead of her. Seated upright in wait for her gaze was a smiling child with his hand raised in greeting towards the pair. Sized to match her internal definition of a slight 4 year old, his appearance save this smallness was that of a happy juvenile well on his way to recovery.

The instant that she laid eyes on these finer details was the same one wherein her mind forgot them. In that moment, Morgan became of the opinion that Nicol was irresistibly adorable—smallness and all. For a time, this felt irresistibility flushed her cheeks with warmth, and bound her lips to silence lest she say something inappropriate.

Conversely, Nicol was not affected by her presence in the slightest.

“Hiya! Nice t’meet you.” Nicol began, warmly. “I’m Nicol! Are you one’a Miri’s new nurse friends?”

Addressed, Morgan’s reticence was shattered. Behind a brief nod, she spoke out to confirm the boy’s suspicions without a moment’s delay.

“Y-Yes, I’m Morgan!” she squeaked. “I-It’s very nice to meet you, Nicol. I hope that I will be able to look after you properly from now on!”

Having met a number of trainee nurses in his time as a patient, Nicol had taught himself not to take the nervousness that they displayed personally. The projection of a certain amount of it had proven to be the norm for them. ‘Why’ exactly was unknown to him, but if Morgan stuck to the trend set by her predecessors, the answer to this question would remain irrelevant. With time, she’d acclimate to interacting with him just as all of the others had—perhaps even a bit faster than the norm.

This in mind, Nicol felt that including her in something was the best way for the two of them to spend their first meeting together. Prepared in advance for such an event, he briefly glanced at a wide beige box settled atop the foot of his bed before turning his attention back to Morgan and Mirielia.

Prior to speaking, he tilted his head in confusion.

“Oh, did you not tell her, Miri?” he began, focus shifting towards the more seasoned brunette.

Confused but open to information, Mirielia produced a head tilt of her own.

“Tell her what, Nicol? Morgan and I only just met a little while ago.” she replied. “Was it something one of your doctors told you?”

To this, Nicol shook his head and pointed at the box ahead of him.

“Nope. It’s about the new uniforms!” he chirped. “I spoke with the hospital administration lady and she said I could pick new outfits for everyone t’wear, ‘member? Everyone should have gotten theirs today!”

“I dunno why, but another lady brought some in that box right there. Since they’re the aksepted now, you n’Morgan should change into ‘em, right?”

Per usual, Mirielia opted to proceed first and ask her questions later. Though she could not recall her superiors mentioning a change in uniform, the fact that Nicol had taken the time to inform her was enough reason for her to keep herself in conformance with the standard. Moving up to the foot of his bed, she reached out with both hands to pull off the top half of the box he had pointed out. Throughout its removal, she directly apologized to him as well.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Nicol. I must’ve just forgotten—Morgan and I will change right now.” she affirmed. “Since we’re doing it **in front of you** , maybe you can give us your opinion on how we look? It’d be very reassuring to know that you think your nurses still look pretty, after all!”

As Mirielia’s suggestion was directly in line with what he had planned to do in the first place, Nicol met her suggestion with a firm nod and an airy “Okay~!” that suggested his doing so (grading their appearances) was more trivial than it was woefully inappropriate.

Morgan, on the other hand, met Mirielia’s words as a ‘normal’ person might’ve. Like Mirielia, the replacement of her current uniform with something selected by a near-toddler stood as news to her. Further, Mirielia’s suggestion that the two of them change right where Nicol could see them struck her as both wildly inappropriate and potentially career-threatening. As adorable as he appeared, this alone did not strike her as justification for exposing him to something so…perverse.

Amidst the jovial air that had consumed his room, Morgan’s discomfort stuck out like a sore thumb. Though Nicol was the first to recognize it, Mirielia acted on it well before he could suggest that something be done about it. Peeling one of the two prepared outfits out of the box, she turned towards Mirielia and cordially outstretched the garments towards her whilst projecting another of her endearing, closed-eyed smiles.

“Ahaha, it’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed, Morgan.” she began. “Nicol’s a ‘Privileged Patient’, remember? That means that doing stuff like this in front of him is perfectly fine!”

“If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you!”

True to her word, Mirielia began to undress the moment Morgan took up the ‘clothing’ that she had held out for her. Hands free, she began unbuttoning her nurse’s uniform from the collar seal at her neck down across the left-most fringe at her left breast, and finally along the left of her midsection and crotch. Paying no mind to her ample, bra-cupped cleavage popping out from the garment’s peak, she continued with this task until both sides of the smooth button-down dress were reduced to a loose draping atop either side of her torso. Subsequently slipping the garment from off of her frame one arm at a time, she discarded it to the floor, and shamelessly leaned towards Nicol’s bed-space to unearth her own ‘uniform’ from the box.

It was at this point that her efforts began to draw consistent attention from Nicol. To begin with, Mirelia was a young woman whose body filled out the threads of her uniform in a notably feminine way. D-cup breasts rounded to just exceed the span of an adult male’s hands were complemented by a relatively slender midsection, wide hips flared out to an impressive width in preparation for her best child-bearing years, and a cutely pudgy midsection indicative of the years that she had spent as a student. More often than not, Nicol spent the majority of their time together ogling her frame, or gently coaxing her into hugging him such that the meat of her breasts was pressed up against his face and the softness of her midsection was impressed atop his own.

The ‘uniform’ that she drew into her hands was one of several that the boy believed would enhance the appeal of her features even further. Thus, instead of training his eyes on the plump exterior of her cunt or the succulent, bubble-gum pink bloat of her nipples and areola, Nicol waited with baited breath for her to finish slipping and squishing herself into her new outfit.

Strictly speaking, the set of strings and patches hardly qualified as an outfit at all. After a handful of minutes spent peeling and tugging, Mirielia successfully replaced her nurse’s uniform with an undersized, light-pink sling bikini. From the front, every inch of flesh of the peach-colored flesh her frame maintained sat exposed save for a fraction of her lower lips and the meat of her nipples. At these regions, narrow, tear-drop-shaped patches of pink fabric could be found suckling to just enough of their flesh to dissuade a layman from defining Mirielia as naked.

Of course, this wasn’t saying much. Whereas the wider teardrops at her breasts (these sustained by an inverted ‘U’ of razor-thin bikini-string looped around her neck and partly buried into the meat of her breasts) left the majority of her areola uncovered, the inverted triangle of material at her crotch left the upper portions of her lower lips completely exposed to the naked eye. Having selected the items himself, Nicol knew that a similarly useless patch of fabric sat swallowed into the fat of Mirielia’s ass cheeks as well.

In any other situation, such an ‘outfit’ wouldn’t have qualified as a work uniform—much less appropriate clothing for public exposure. But, as Nicol had selected it, Mirielia felt no embarrassment in donning it, and afterwards presenting herself to the boy with a smile on her face.

“How’s this, Nicol? Super cute, right?” she asked, hands proudly postured atop her bare hips.

Enthused, Nicol quietly clapped at the sight of Mirielia’s new appearance and gently nodded his head in confirmation.

“Mhm! You look really pretty, Miri! It’ll be way comfier for you to work n’stuff now too, I think.” he affirmed.

Provided with the ‘all clear’ she knew that she’d received, Mirielia shifted her front back towards Morgan with far more confidence on her face.

“See, it’s just like I said! If Nicol says it’s okay, we don’t have to worry about anything except following through, ‘kay?” she repeated. “Now, why don’t you try changing too? I think you’ll probably have an easier time with it than I did, haha.”

Robbed of all reason to refuse, Morgan met Mirielia’s suggestion with a tepid nod of agreement. From the start of her (Mirelia’s) undressing to the final prodding of breast flesh into her sling bikini, she (Morgan) had carefully moved her gaze between her senior co-worker’s body and Nicol’s face. At no point throughout the event did either of the pair appear disturbed by the other’s actions. In truth, both of them appeared so enthralled with the event that its underlined perversion was subverted from her perspective.

As a junior nurse, following the examples set by her seniors with regards to patient care remained in her best interest. With this (and Nicol’s smiling face) in mind, Morgan set about undressing herself after a final affirmative glance at Nicol. Beginning with the neck seal of her uniform just as Mirielia had, she continually released the buttons that descended along its left side until she managed slip it off of her torso with similar ease.

At the garment’s descent to the ground, Nicol trained his ‘innocent’ gaze on her frame in the same manner he had Mirielia’s. Though similar to her senior co-worker in height, Morgan’s frame was clearly the more unbalanced between the pair. Overflowing from the aquamarine-white striped brassiere at her chest were a pair of puffy, mouth-wateringly pale E-Cup breasts. Dewed with droplets of perspiration pushed through her skin by anxiety, both mounds owned a gleaming juiciness that made the boy imagine a massive, teardrop-sloped gumdrop of flesh. Below them, a waist narrower than Mirielia’s and hips less bow-curved fixed the ‘class’ of Morgan’s frame into one different from her co-worker’s. Whereas Mirielia’s offered a consistently plump and squishy femininity, Morgan’s breasts outclassed the composition of her lower body in scale by a wide margin. Neither region was by any means unappealing, but from Nicol’s perspective, the difference was a difficult one to miss.

Coincidently, the outfit handed to her by Mirielia was one designed such that its wearer being top or bottom heavy was irrelevant. For all intents and purposes, a woman clothed only by three palm-width, heart-shaped pasties was not one that the average male eye was capable of scrutinizing. After slipping out of her underwear, Morgan gingerly peeled the violet stickers from off of the wax sheets that maintained them, then applied them one at a time atop her nipples and crotch. Painfully aware of how little of her body was covered underneath the thinned medical-grade plasters, she subsequently forced herself to wrap her arms behind her back so as to present herself in full to Nicol.

Nicol, despite having focused on her for several minutes prior to this, purposed her posturing as an opportunity to smile and applaud as he had for Mirielia. If contrived, the emotion that he injected into the gesture was genuine. To him, the sight of her massive breasts topped off by plasters whose thinness teased the shape of her nipples’ abnormal thickness was extremely arousing. As well, the exposure of her fair soft skin and the awkwardly-feminine frame that it enveloped presented an appealing contrast relative to the scantily clad woman at her side.

Shortly, there was nothing for him to complain about. Morgan was a cute, virtually naked older girl—and this was enough for him.

“You’re really pretty too, Morgan!” he chirped. “I made sure t’ask for stuff that different kindsa girls would be able t’wear, but you make it look way better th’n I thought it would.”

“Don’t forget t’wear it every day, ‘kay? The hospital lady will give you lots more if you ask, but you c’n also just talk to me if you wanna. Since you look so nice, I’ll always give you _whateeeeever_ you need.”

Ultimately, all that it took for Morgan to loosen was the passage of these words across Nicol’s lips. At the sound of them, her hands dropped from her sides to her back, and all of the discomfort that had tightened her frame was melted down into the same healthy confidence that Mirielia was displaying.

Soon enough, she was even nodding her head as well.

“I will! Thank you so much, Nicol—I really will look forward to looking after you from now on ♥.” she replied.

Quick to note the shift in Morgan’s demeanor, a flash of instructive instinct prompted Mirielia to again reach out to take up her co-worker’s left hand. Squeezing it firmly, she afterwards raised her right up into a short wave at Nicol.

“Anyway, I have to finish introducing Morgan to everyone and showing her around the hospital. I’ll try to check up on you again afterwards, but if someone beats me to it, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” speaking in the midst of turning her back to the youth, she peaked over her shoulder to deliver a final word on proceedings.

“And remember, no touching below your waist, sweetie…”

“At least not until we’re all together ♥.”

Faced with his nurses’ sudden departure, Mirielia’s request failed to reach Nicol’s ears. In the midst of waving goodbye to Morgan, he abandoned his thoughts on the present so as to begin generating ideas for the future.

With a conversation and some time, he had managed to change the dress code of an entire medical facility. Given a little bit more thought and effort, there could be no telling what he’d be able to achieve…

**-**

**SERIN FACILITY—JULY 30** **TH**

The extent to which the women of the Serin Facility dote on Nicol is considered by everyone other than the boy himself to be a double-edged sword. It cannot be argued that the dedication and flexibility displayed by these women in their handling of him is ‘bad’; the level of suffering endured by the boy throughout his meagre years of life effectively necessitates such effort if one is to make a ‘positive impact’ on his life. Equally, one can argue that the amount of time that the boy spends coddled by these women may one day hinder his ability to display independence in the future.

Whereas the latter opinion is maintained by most of the males surrounding the boy, the former represents the ‘core’ of the mindset of the women around him. Nicol’s own opinion on the subject concerns neither. While it is not always the case that he specifically desires to spend time with the women around him, doing so is something that he considers to be more fun and harmless than anything else. As their (the female staff members’) behavior is structured to focus on him with or without his input, following along with it as any other wistful child might often seems to be the most effective way of dealing with it.

It is as a direct result of this reasoning that Nicol ended up becoming a regular fixture within the communal baths taken by the nurses assigned to the Serin Facility. At one point or another, knowledge as to his preferences became prevalent enough among the nurses for them to occasionally make use of said knowledge to further appeal to him. Whether he required a bath himself or not, the end of any given nurse group’s shift began to coincide with their arriving at his room to happily whisk him off to the staff bathing room. Originally intended as a location where employees subjected to long hours might be able to relax, the passage of time eventually reduced the female side of the bathing area to a viewing lounge for a happily-indifferent child.

Today, much like any other day, Nicol found himself atop a specially-acquired stool set in the dead center of this humid, sweet-smelling paradise. Attentions utterly consumed by the sights unfolding ahead of him, his frame forgot where it was and what it was doing in favor of more thoroughly internalizing their contents into his memories. The moist air that surrounded him and the ambient hiss of hot water as mixed with the content giggling of the women within the bathroom facilitated this as well.

He was as comfortable as a little boy could be—hence his contentment with silent observation.

Evidently, though, this level of comfort no longer matched what the women responsible for his situation wished to provide. Whilst in the midst of their showers, Morgan, Vanessa and Mirielia each occasionally bent their gazes away from one another and over towards Nicol. Their doing so in time with one another was not a coincidence. In the same way that each of them had gotten into the habit of allowing him to watch them without paying much attention to his presence, all three remained vigilant in their monitoring of his face and posture. If and when he presented as being too sleepy or sickly to truly enjoy the sight of their naked and glistening frames, each woman vowed to ensure that he was returned to his bed as soon as possible.

The realization of such a possibility was not what had captured their attentions, however. In truth, it was a realization to the contrary: for the third time in as many viewings, Nicol appeared to be enjoying himself so much so that all three of the women became of the opinion that they needed to contribute further.

Wrestling with the possibility of being stymied by one of their peers, the trio watched and waited for an ideal time to strike whilst finishing up with the bulk of their showering routines.

In the end, it was the woman least concerned with the ‘ideal’ that managed to strike first. In the blink of an eye, Vanessa stepped out from underneath her shower head and completed an inviting stride up to a position towering over Nicol.

Dropping down into a deep squat ahead of him, the clearance of several soaked locks of hair off of her face revealed that her descent had failed to perfectly level her face with his own. It was deep enough for her, however. Here, the concerns that had driven her were legitimized through and through.

“Oh, you’re so sweet, Nicol! This is the third time you’ve just sat and watched without mentioning how uncomfortable you are. You really just wanted to make sure that we had nice baths, didn’t you?” Vanessa suggested, features drawn into a modest pout. “I guess we should have known that something like this would happen eventually. It’s completely normal, though, so you should speak up if you start to feel frustrated, okay?”

Tugged from his hazy dream world into one that required slightly more effort from him, Nicol required a brief shaking of his head and a momentary closure of his eyes to even recognize that he was being spoken to. When he did, the meaning behind Vanessa words remained lost on him.

As far as he could tell, he was comfortable.

“Um…I think I’m okay, Vani. Do I look sick?” Nicol replied, quietly. Taking advantage of his position to take in a more detailed presentation of her breasts, he afterwards produced a grin in hopes of assuring her that all was well. “Gettin’ to watch everyone in here is lotsa fun for me since everyone is so pretty! So I’m ok!”

Vanessa disagreed. Reaching in towards his crotch with her dominant hand, she shamelessly enveloped the drooling nose of his cock within a moist prison of feminine flesh and firm intent.

This done, she produced a grin of her own.

“Oh no you’re not ~. Boys only get like this down here when they’re **really** in need of more comfort.” she replied, slyly. “It’s something that all healthy boys go through—especially the ones that spend as much time looking at pretty ladies as you.”

“It’s alright, though! I know how to make it all better, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Nicol barely heard a word that Vanessa produced after her palm consumed the top portion of his length. Thus far indifferent to the bloated, drooling erection that extended from the root of his crotch, the surge of sensation flushed through his frame as her grasp smothered his meat very nearly rendered him braindead.

This was not the first time he had endured an erection. Whilst around the women within the hospital, it was almost a constant for him. Where possible, he dealt with it himself, or simply ignored it in favor of having ‘fun’ with the nurses who visited him. The idea that any of the countless females surrounding him might be capable of managing it more efficiently hadn’t crossed his mind.

Until now, of course.

Reeling with stimulation, this idea and the pressure mushed against his member tied Nicol’s tongue long enough to imply tacit consent to Vanessa’s intentions. As well, it prompted the two remaining women within the bathroom to finally inject themselves into proceedings as they had intended to.

Not to be outdone, the first to arrive at Nicol’s side was Mirielia. Propping herself up atop the bathroom floor on bent knees, she reached in with her right hand and set her palm atop Nicol’s stomach. Following contact, she bent her line of sight down towards his own.

“Vanessa’s right, Nicol. Ignoring them might make you _really_ **super** sick, so it’s better if you tell us when you get like this, okay?” she repeated. “Actually, I don’t think that’ll be good enough—you’re a little too quiet when it comes to stuff like this. From now on, we’ll just help you with it whenever we see that you need it. It’s our job as nurses to make sure you’re always healthy, so we should do our best too!”

Acting complimentarily to her senior co-worker, Morgan took up a position on her knees at Nicol’s back. Reaching out with both hands after the fact, she took hold of his shoulders with both hands and pulled him backwards until his upper back was propped up against her midsection. This done, she craned her skull inwards and downwards to peer down at his face from above.

“Doesn’t that sound like a nice idea, Nicol? This way, you’ll always be comfortable! After this, I’m going to tell as many of the other nurses as I can!”

Not surprisingly, Nicol was not at all against the suggestion that Mirielia had tabled. All the same, he was denied the ability to state as much to the women after their imposition. Just as soon as Morgan finished speaking, the palm that Vanessa had wrapped around the nose of his member began sliding from the beginnings of his crotch down towards its midsection. It didn’t stop, either. Inch by inch, every pent inch of his cock was subjected to a pleasurable compression by the weight backing her grasp until it finally arrived at the root of his erection.

From this point onward, thinking on his circumstance lost its lustre for Nicol. Following the descent of Vanessa’s palm was an alarmingly-fast surge of her grasp back up the length of his shaft. Flesh cleared within a fraction of a second, it again took up a lingering position at the nose of his member before a similarly hurried descent returned it from whence it came. Behind this ensued a repeating chain of ascents and descents that resulted in the entirety of his erection being subjected to constant stimulation. No ‘adjustments’ were made to make the ministrations more tolerable for a virtual toddler, nor was Vanessa at all put off by the agape bliss that became prevalent across his face. Nicol could not yet recognize it for what it was, but the smiling lust spread out across her face told the story of her intent. Then and there, the only matter of importance to her was milking out the cause of his ‘discomfort’ as efficiently as she could.

Contrary to the shape that her stroking had taken on, the single-mindedness of Vanessa’s intent had not rendered her efforts mindless. From the moment that she had trailed her eyes along the 6 inches of slender phallus flesh rooted at Nicol’s crotch, her mind had started on the task of developing a stroking pattern that might make it burst. Upon consideration of Nicol’s apparent age and his lack of sexual experience, she arrived at the conclusion that speed and aggression were the best tools that she could apply to the task. However impressive his pale, bee-stung erection appeared as attached to his adorably-juvenile frame, her mind framed the organ as what it was: a vascular pipe of virginal cockflesh unused to consistent stimulation in all of its various forms. As such, achieving the result that she desired was simply a matter of overloading the quivering organ as quickly as possible.

Practiced in the ‘craft’ of caregiving, Vanessa applied herself to this task with an unwavering focus. When first she pressed her palm sleeve down to the hairless root of Nicol’s shaft, she tightened her grasp on the organ sharply enough to mush yet more of its warmth into her palm. This done, she flicked her wrist inwards (towards herself) and wrenched her forearm upwards to see this newfound pressure biased against the top half of his shaft’s girth. Then, after allowing the precum yoked through his length to drench the confines of her palm orifice, she plunged it back down to the base of his cock whilst flicking her wrist downward. In doing so, the same grinding pressure she had exerted throughout her ascent was reapplied to his shaft’s face as backed by a balmy greasing with precum.

On completion of these motions, speedily repeating them became child’s play for Vanessa. As her palm was only pumped through the encapsulation of 6 inches of cockmeat no wider than the head of a spoon, her wrist and forearm seamlessly reproduced her stroking motions without her needing to concentrate very hard on the task. Were it not for the progressive drenching of her hand with precum and the projection of cute throbs against the face of her palm, blotting her performance of the act out of her mind would have been easy enough as well. In recognition of her situation, she purposed the mental freedom she had obtained to split herself between the stroking of Nicol’s shaft and an activity she deemed to be even more pleasant:

Watching the boy’s face.

“Awh, holding it in isn’t good either, y’know~!” Vanessa teased, warmly. “I feel you throbbing lots and lots against my hand, Nicol. Be a good boy and let it all out! You’ll feel so much better that way ♥.”

After about a minute of staring at Nicol’s face, these were the only words that she could think to produce. All of the adorable scrunching of his features, the pants that slithered from between his lips; all of them made her desire release for the boy that much more. 

Such dedication was not without its consequences. In her fervor, she did not once stop to consider that her favorite patient might actually comply with her suggestion. So lost had she become in her staring and stroking that the passage of time and the desperate throbbing of Nicol’s cock slipped from the forefront of her mind as well. Consequentially, it came as a considerable shock to the woman when the completion of one of her breakneck strokes elicited a strained groan from Nicol’s throat and a surge of pressure through his length.

Taken aback, she was even more stunned when a rope of thick, pearly-white semen burst from the tip of his cock after the fact.

“Mnnngaaahhh!!!” overwhelmed by the sensation of his own orgasm, Nicol failed to produce coherent speech when faced with it. Abruptly made to feel as though a gutting current of electricity was being conducted through his frame, he spread his legs further apart from one another, and pushed his back into tighter contact with Morgan’s stomach.

Poised in wait for this happening from the very first second of Vanessa’s stroking ministrations, both Mirielia and Morgan pounced on their first opportunities to exacerbate the event. Whilst Mirielia turned the comforting settlement of her palm atop his stomach into a circular massaging of its expanse, Morgan pushed her grasp of his shoulders into an outright embracing of his upper body.

Unsurprisingly, neither woman was silent throughout doing so.

“There, that’s a good boy ♥. Let it all out for Vanessa, okay?” Mirielia pleaded.

“It’s ok, we’re all here, remember? Just think about how much better you’re going to feel soon ♥.” Morgan implored.

Like Vanessa’s before them, these words directly influenced what Nicol experienced as semen continually erupted from the tip of his length. Suddenly more invested in the wadded threads’ ejection, he focused himself on the sensation of vacation created at his crotch and later forced himself to adhere to the tinging bliss that accompanied each spurt his cock produced.

To his surprise, doing so was extremely pleasant. As the wads of semen released from the tip of his cock owned a length on par with an adult index finger and a consistency no more glutted than could be expected of growing adolescent, their wriggling up, and finally out of his urethra offered a brand of stimulation that even his youthful psyche remained capable of acclimating to. Within three of these blurts, Nicol acquired the wherewithal to tilt his gaze down at his crotch and watch as additional half-threads of seed descended into muddy flops atop Vanessa’s palm.

Seconds later, the ‘worst’ of this bliss was over. After another trio of milky semen-dollops surged from ascent to descent from the tip of his cock, the blinding quality of his first orgasm subsided, and the muscle contractions that had consumed his tiny lower half dissipated. A handful of supplementary strokes from Vanessa’s hand threatened to reignite them, but when the last few droplets of semen clogging his urethra were drawn out, all returned to ‘normal’ within his mind.

The same could not be said of his body. Nicol did not appear especially concerned with the condition of his frame, but this did not make the tears within his eyes or the trembling of his sweat-glazed musculature any less obvious.

Curiously, these things failed to attract any attention from the women that surrounded him. Despite their status as nurses, the aftermath of his orgasm left all three of them mutually enamoured with a far more ‘telling’ consequence of his release.

Somehow, the full length of his cock remained erect.

“Wooooooow, you really were saving up a lot, huh? You did really great getting so much out on your first try, sweetie ♥.” first to speak out against the silence that had fallen over proceedings, Vanessa addressed Nicol in the midst of marvelling at the mess of strands and globs left atop her hand.

From her perspective, it appeared as though a number of semen-based earthworms had taken up residence atop her skin alongside quarter-sized puddles of the substance. Seemingly awed by both the volume he had released and its quality, her staring at the substance soon escalated into an ingress of her hand towards her lips and nostrils. Here, she parted her lips, and snapped her skull inwards to kiss their surfaces into a starved slurping of semen off of her hand’s flesh. Evidently, she was not merely awed by Nicol’s semen…

She was utterly smitten with it.

Whilst Vanessa busied herself with slurping, the vacant swell of Nicol’s member was taken up by Mirielia. Enveloping the semen-glazed root of his shaft just as Vanessa had, she wisely applied far less pressure with her grasp to account for the rawness of his cock.

This done, her gaze snapped straight back over towards its owner.

“It looks like you still have a bit of gooey stuff you still need to get rid of, Nicol. Since we’re all still here, I’ll be the one who’ll help you get it out this time.” she affirmed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Entirely within his right mind, Mirielia’s words prompted Nicol to look within himself for an answer. Largely hollowed by his orgasm, what remained within him was desire—a stifling need for more of the same stinging pleasure that Vanessa’s hand had squeezed into his cock.

Upon recognizing this, he didn’t hesitate. Smiling whilst nodding, he soon parted his lips to remove all ambiguity as to his opinion.

“A’course! I hope everybody’ll make me feel better lots n’lots from now on!”


	2. Nicol and the Nurse Union

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicol's rehabilitation within the Serin Facility continues. In hopes of putting his influence over the women around him to good use, Dr. Ledh nominates him for participation within a post-partem depression program for a pair of deeply-disturbed and extremely well-endowed milfs.
> 
> Later, he serves as the corner stone for the restructuring of a labor agreement for the Serin Facility's nursing staff for reasons he can't quite remember. What he can remember concerns him facefucking the nurses as they negotiate, groping their tits, and generally molesting their bodies for everyone to see.
> 
> Needless to say, he's getting better.

**_Nicol — Patient Symptomatology & Rehabilitation Record #2_ **

_-Maintained and authored by Dr. Hector Ledh, Senior Pediatric Specialist. To be deleted at his discretion._

_Day 215: My decision to hold Nicol within the Serin Facility arbitrarily has resulted in much more sexual contact between him and the women around him than I initially predicted. While it is true that I am directly responsible for his well being, the nurses that I have placed to assist in his daily care and the specialists I have selected to manage his rehabilitation now take on far more of this responsibility in practice. I am in no way exonerated from involvement with their actions, but so long as their attachment to him remains positive, it is unlikely that I will have to directly involve myself in anything that transpires. Nicol does not know it, but the list of individuals that have become infatuated with him has grown to a point wherein my influence is almost unnecessary._

_These developments have made it much easier for me to speak candidly with him. So as to continually gauge his physical and mental state, I have increased the frequency of my visits to his bedroom and have sat to converse with him about his life within the facility on a number of occasions. Evidently, the most graphic—and by proxy, the most significant—instances of sexual contact he has been involved with of late were suggested and enacted by members of his nursing team. His description of the events remains childish even now, but so far as I can tell, he both understands and appreciates their proactivity—even in cases wherein their attachment to him makes certain aspects of his life difficult._

_Whilst conversing on the subject, it becomes very difficult for me to believe that Nicol is the child that he appears to be. If not for the flashes of childish ignorance he sometimes displays, I’d sooner conclude that this world he has created for himself is something he’s crafted intentionally._

_Easy as this would be, I cannot help but feel that something else is going on. For this reason, I have petitioned for the female staff members concerned with his care to be subjected to a series of precautionary medical examinations. As Nicol’s body has not provided any leads of late, it is my hope that the behavior these women display will turn out to be rooted in something that can be measured or mitigated._

_This is unlikely, but investigating something will be more fruitful than investigating nothing._

_Day 245: The waning of summer has seen Nicol become much more active. Though he is restricted from roaming around the facility by himself, the extent of his recovery has seen him make regular accompanied trips to the roof for sunlight. I have participated in some of these outings myself as an excuse to continue speaking with him; to a point, it calms me to know that he is still capable of enjoying things that more typical children cherish._

_On one of these excursions, Nicol asked whether or not he could be taken as far as the facility’s entrance. His intent in this was innocent and ignorant, but I tactlessly denied this request the moment that he produced it. Seeing his confusion and dismay, I used this as an opportunity to divulge the results of the examinations performed on those around him._

_In the same way that Nicol’s blood displays elevated levels of (oxytocin and testosterone), all of the women that he has come into contact with have somehow managed to maintain toxic quantities of (estrogen and serotonin) within them. More curiously, each of these women—from the eldest to the youngest—display comparable infusion with the substances. Simply put, Nicol’s responsibility for the presence of these imbalances is blatant and unambiguous._

_This is concerning for two reasons. To begin with, the loving behavior displayed by these women can now be understood as something that they have been primed for. Not only are they at their happiest as a result of the serotonin within their systems, but the excess of estrogen within them has left their libidos in a state that requires persistent ‘management’ if they are to be able to function within their jobs (hence their contact with Nicol)._

_My second concern is that the amount of time required for them to transition into this primed state is exceedingly short. Out of curiosity, I included a highschool-aged nurse volunteer who had only spent a day with Nicol on the list of individuals to be tested. Despite her having the most minimal exposure to him amongst the group, her blood displayed the same degree of alteration as her peers._

_If allowed to venture outside as he is now, I worry that the world at large will become exposed to his condition more quickly than he will be able to manage it. The real world is not as structured as this facility; though he must be discharged eventually, I believe that minimizing his contact with the outside world until he is ready to approach it is the best decision I can make for those concerned._

_To my surprise, Nicol was very acceptant of my explanations. I had assumed that the degree of control he maintains over those around him would lead him to attempt defying me, but it seems that he respects my medical insights and direction as any other child would._

_In growing children, understanding and maturity is something to be rewarded. As I write this, I have made arrangements to ‘surprise’ Nicol by enlisting his aid in a task that I believe will help him spread his wings as he so desires to. It is my hope that its completion will shine light on what little potential for good his abnormalities still maintain as well._

_Day 260: After a great deal of negotiation and strong-arming, Nicol will begin work on his first sanctioned task within the Serin Facility beginning tomorrow. His results will be recorded within future entries, but for the sake of reading clarity, I have attached a summary of the task for reference by those who eventually make use of these logs._

**_POSTPARTUM REPAIR PROOF OF CONCEPT_ **

****

\- _While practical, the autonomous function of the M. Ulster General Hospital and the pediatric facility that it contains has resulted in missed opportunities with regards to the care of its patients. Presently, the hospital contains a number of women undergoing physical and psychiatric treatment for intense postpartum depression. Similarly, the Serin Facility houses innumerable children whose conditions have denied them contact with their mothers for extended periods of time. Little can be done in relation to accelerating their recoveries, but a means of making said recoveries more comfortable has been largely ignored by the administrative staff of both facilities._

\- _Dr. Hector Ledh proposes an exploratory experiment concerning how these two populations might benefit from one another. Two women presently undergoing treatment within the hospital will be moved into the Serin Facility for the purpose of interaction with a single longterm inpatient over a set period of time. Naturalistic interaction will be promoted, and the utmost care will be taken to ensure the comfort of both parties. If this crossover proves therapeutic for the patients concerned, development of a more longterm program and broad spectrum can be attempted at a later date._

\- _The Serin Facility therefore requests administrative cooperation in this matter. Further details on to the women selected and the exchange itself are listed below…_

_-_

**_SEASIDE CRUISE – SERIN FACILITY SEPTEMBER 27 TH _ **

Elie Seaside did not believe that she deserved to be alive. A woman content to continue living solely for the sake of those who claimed to love her, her existence was one dominated by regret and a persistent desire to escape from it—even at the cost of her own life.

This had not always been the case. Not two years prior to the onset of this regret, the shapely brunette was a picture of hope and optimism bright enough to put smiles on the faces of all those who laid eyes on it. Then a 19-year-old mother-to-be, hope and optimism were really the only things that her life had allowed her to feel. Her air-headed and affection-prone personality as combined with ownership of fat, mouth-wateringly supple breasts and squishy, reproduction-oriented curvature had resulted in her winding up pregnant well before she could decide how it was she wished to spend the rest of her life.

5 feet and 6 inches in height with hips whose squishy bow-span was matched only by the ample cinderblocks of thigh-flesh that descended from it, child-rearing was in truth one of very few career paths suited to her disposition. Whilst growing, nutrients that could have contributed to counteracting her spaciness were instead absorbed to develop a pair of wobbling, H-cup breasts sized and shaped like ripe watermelons, and a doughy, painfully supple pair of asscheeks whose swell and span made dressing herself modestly extremely difficult. Succinctly, the ‘opportunity’ that her frame offered was one too effective for most men to ignore. It thusly did not come as a surprise to anyone close to her when her idling after high school resulted in her first and only sexual partner impregnating her.

As it turned out, however, her affinity for the process did not belie a capacity for it. On the cusp of graduation from her teenage years—a period that saw her arrange her neck-length chestnut hair into a distinctly juvenile side ponytail—the hope and optimism that defined her was violently ripped from her frame over the course of a 24 hour miscarriage.

The doctors who had saved her life called the event inexplicable. A mother rejecting the body of a fetus so late into a given pregnancy was not something observed with any sort of regularity. The emergency C-section performed should have allowed for the child to be incubated for the remainder of its gestation without issue. There should have been ample time for them to treat both mother and child until they recovered enough for discharge from the hospital.

Should have, could have, would have.

When first she regained consciousness, Elie could only see her reality. Her child was taken from her for no reason other than her being herself. She’d have willingly given her life to save it, but even this was beyond her.

Somehow, she had failed at her first and only undertaking as an adult.

Throughout the year that followed, this ‘failure’ destroyed Elie’s life. Opportunistic and juvenile, the man who had impregnated her took her loss as an opportunity to excuse himself from her side. Despite her family’s best effort at assuring her that a life remained for her to live, being discarded by the father of her deceased child accelerated her hollowing into outright debilitation. Rendered unstable and unhealthy, the deterioration of her sense of self prompted the professionals in charge of her to recommend a long-term treatment plan for postpartum depression.

Too numb to resist, she followed along with these recommendations as a pet might trot along behind their master. In her despondency, she allowed herself to be ‘treated’ without any intention of bettering herself. Day after day, she took medication prescribed to her and performed in cognitive therapy recommended to stimulate her recovery—all whilst wishing that she had died instead of her child.

It was as a direct result of this detachment that Elie failed to take issue with the latest of the ‘activities’ mandated by her treatment plan. One day, the results of a discussion presented to her weeks prior necessitated that she be escorted from her bedroom to a pediatric facility in the middle of the night. Per the facility’s standards of enclosure, all of her belongings were transported to her new room ahead of the night of her move, and the visitation rights that had kept her in contact with her family were nullified for the foreseeable future.

Thinking nothing of these things, Elie followed along until doing so submerged her into a darkness different from what consumed her bedroom on a nightly basis. Escorted through it by a silent orderly for minutes on end, the world that it obscured (the darkness) was unlike anything she had seen before.

Minutes of exposure to it convinced her that she was dreaming. When delivered to her destination and entreated to take off the hospital gown clinging to her frame, she complied under the assumption that doing so was without consequence. Upon exposure to the light of her new bedroom—a room that she had stood adjacent to for several seconds—she stepped into it with the understanding that her entrance would mark the end of her strange, dark dream.

And it did. Met by a boy as tiny as he was familiar not a single step into the room, Elie became certain:

_This_ was reality, and the preceding two years of her life had simply been a bad dream.

“Hi! You must be Elie, right? Welcome to the Serin Facility!” bright and impressively conscious for the hour of the morning, the boy welcomed her into the confines of the room with a smile on his face and arms outstretched towards her. “My name’s Nicol! Nicol -----. I may be kinda small, but it’s my job to help look after you while you’re here. It’s too early for us to go out and look at stuff around the hospital, but I wanted t’ make sure that we met in a way that matched the stuff that Dr. Ledh said.”

After his greeting, the boy who had introduced himself as Nicol dropped his arms back down to his sides and turned around to gesture towards the hospital bed behind him.

“Anyway, if you’re still sleepy, we can sleep a bit more first. I’ve been awake for a little while waiting for you, but I know getting up early can be hard n’stuff.” he offered. “There’s lotsa space on the bed, so it should be okay for at least a nap or something while they finish setting up your room.”

“Unless you just wanna do something e—”

Elie had required several seconds of thought and appreciation to come to terms with her surroundings, but upon swallowing them, every fibre of her being abandoned the task of listening to Nicol for one concerned with embracing him. Dropping down to her knees and surging inward as though she were possessed, she spread her arms so as to draw the smiling child’s warmth into a firm embrace against the naked flesh of her breasts.

The moment the flesh of his cheeks made contact with cold-sweat plastered to her skin, the gaping hole left within her by her losses was filled in so cleanly that she lost all recollection of it being there in the first place.

In an instant, the Elie Seaside that wished to perish did so, and the one that had wished only to raise a happy and healthy child continued living in her place.

“Nicol!! I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten while I was away ♥!” Elie exclaimed, words consumed by maternal adoration. “I’m so, _so_ sorry for leaving you along for so long! It was only because Mommy was trying to listen to her doctors, okay? If it weren’t for that, I’d have been right here with you this whole time!”

Behind these exclamations, an outflow of quiet hiccups and sobs from Elie’s throat denied her the ability to speak. Utterly overcome with emotion, she took this time to peel Nicol out from his suffocation against her chest and look down at his face through the veil of tears that had begun flowing from her eyes. Ultimately incapable of taking in his features for more than a few seconds, her doing so quickly devolved into another downward plunge of her frame that pressed her left cheek up against his right.

Whilst nuzzling her tears against the tiny patch of warmth on his face, she found her voice again.

“I’m here now though, okay? While I’m here, I’m going to make sure you’re as comfortable and happy as possible! Just let Mommy take good care of you to make up for the time that she was away ♥.” she sobbed.

If taken aback by Elie’s sudden embrace of his frame, Nicol was not completely debilitated by it. Contact with the naked bodies of older women—their massive breasts in particular—was something that his time within the Serin Facility had rendered commonplace. Differently, sobbing affection of this sort was more or less new to him. Were it not for the fact that he had experienced it once before, the motherly concern that Elie was directing towards him was likely to have proved too confusing for him to respond to.

Of course, as this was not the case, producing a natural response to it was as simple as keeping himself calm and thinking one up.

“I guess she’s like this a lot, too.” he thought to himself. “I’ll hafta make sure that nothing goes wrong with the way that she thinks about stuff, but I can do that later. It’s better if I just try t’make her feel better for now.”

“After all, this is something that only I can do!”

Priorities set, Nicol met Elie’s nuzzling with the delivery of a short kiss against her cheek, and a smile.

“You don’t have to say sorry. I don’t think you did anything bad—you just did the stuff adults have to do sometimes. It’d be silly if you blame yourself for that, don’tcha think?” he replied, smiling. “I wasn’t really sad or lonely or anything, so you don’t have to worry about making it up to me, either. As long as I can make you happy while you stay here, that’s enough for me.”

Firmly tuned into her ‘son’s’ response, Elie did not speak until she was certain that he was finished doing so. Having daydreamed about his voice for countless hours throughout her pregnancy, the reality of its quality filled her with an elation so all-consuming that her frame was made to shelve its tearful jubilation and take up further parental duty.

Now was not the time for her to be satisfied with his modesty. She needed to be present for him—even if he was not willing to demand that she did so.

This in mind, Elie shook her head and reaffirmed her embrace of his back. Standing upright after the fact, she took advantage of the juvenile tininess of his frame to hoist his body up into a width-wise cradling across the span of her bust. Throughout, reflexes ingrained into her genetics propped the back of his head up against the crease between her left forearm and bicep, then elevated it high enough to bring the edge of his mouth into contact with the gelatinous pink bloat of her left nipple. Upon feeling the warmth of his breath against her flesh, she turned her gaze downwards, and at last embarked on a slow stride towards the bed that had been pointed out to her.

“Ah-ah-ah, you can’t fool me, Nicol~.” she began, giggling. “It makes Mommy very happy that you were thinking of her, but with how long we’ve been apart, you must be **starving.** I’m here now, so you don’t have to hold back—have as much milk as you’d like ♥. The more you drink is the more comfortable I’ll be!”

Directly in time with her speech, the ducts embedded into the plump, palm-width knob of nipple flesh that protruded from her left breast began to secrete a thick, sweetly-scented cream out towards contact with Nicol’s cheek. Shortly afterwards, the welling of milk within similar ducts spread out across her areola presented the (shade) pink face of her breast as a nutrient-smeared dessert ripe for ‘consumption’ by any child exposed to it.

Abnormalities aside, Nicol remained every bit a child as his near-toddler-sized frame implied. Despite intending to suggest that Elie sleep for the rest of the morning, the scent of the milk dribbling against his cheek and the soothing warmth that it applied to his face was beyond his capacity to resist. As complimented by Elie’s suggesting that drinking it would help her—the very activity he had set out to accomplish upon her entry—what he ought to do in response to these new sensations became glaringly apparent to him.

Within seconds of her offer, he parted his lips and snapped his mouth in towards her nipple. Deft in the act in spite of his not having breastfed for years, he adjusted the width of his lips to accommodate the mass of her nipple just prior to his lips’ contact with its root, and impressed his head inwards with just enough force to lock its leaking flesh into a pressurized ‘kiss’ with the interior of his mouth.

For his proactivity, Nicol earned an experience both jarring and satisfying. With the completion of his kiss came innumerable eruptions of bittersweet cream out into the confines of his mouth. Released from the flesh of Elie’s nipple simultaneously, the discharges drenched both his tongue and oral cavity in equivalently-haphazard sheets of the substance. Thin enough to be squirted, yet thick enough for him to perceive them as outflows of cream and not milk, the miniature deluge left the floor of his jaw smothered underneath a half mouthful of milk right as it began.

In the moment, Nicol could do nothing but drink. The flavor of Elie’s milk told him to drink. The warmth of her breasts and the comfort of her grasp told him to drink. The rate at which pressure-backed bursts of the substance refreshed the thin reservoir made within his mouth demanded that he drink. Too young to deny his instincts once given over to them, he did precisely this. Tightening his lips impression on the root of Elie’s nipple, he took to flushing the warmth of her milk down his throat whilst applying his lips, tongue, and oral cavity to the task of extracting as much of the substance from her as he could.

Much like Elie’s reflexive cradling of his frame, Nicol did not need to think very hard about how to go about this. Upon putting his mind to it, his body produced the effort that the task required without once taking input from his starved psyche. Rather than mashing his mouth inward against Elie’s breast, tugging motions constituted by his neck and lips allowed him to milk her teat with far more frequency and aggression. By maintaining his pressurized suckle to the drooling knob whilst drawing his head backwards, what little compressive force he had managed to apply to her nipple’s mass was peeled back into concentration on its very tip by way of partial elongation. With this came an increase in the volume of milk that her ducts discharged and the frequency at which these discharges occurred—increases that provided him with more nutrients to consume. Though a fraction of the amounts released by the ducts below this focal point missed eruption into his mouth as a result (a circumstance that instead dribbled the substance across his chin), the added milk that he siphoned from these tugging suckles more than validated the effort.

These motions were not the only technique that he applied to the effort, either. At all times—whether dragging his lips backwards or squeezing them in against Elie’s chest—Nicol applied his tongue to an endless series of lashes, swirls and strokes against the studded face of her areola and the entirety of her nipple’s succulent width.

Truth be told, his instincts did a better job at this than he’d have been able to manage if made to approach the task himself. Per the severity of his newfound taste for Elie’s milk, a slovenly lashing of the organ around the bulk of her nipple was likely to have been the extent of its usage. Instead, his needs saw to the application of a mixture of swirling and nuzzling timed to the pace of his suckling. Whilst drawing his lips backwards to pull back at the meat of Elie’s nipple, Nicol rotated his tongue clockwise around the knob’s mass so as to bathe his tongue in whatever volume of milk her ducts saw fit to expel. Comparatively, the time that he spent engaged in more traditional, close-ranged suckling saw him apply his organ’s face in a stagnant squish against the knob’s underside. If different in their composition, the ‘effort’ that these motions contributed to was the same: the repeated drenching of Nicol’s tongue with milk and further drainage of the sweet cream down his throat.

Needless to say, the extent to which Nicol became taken up with feeding himself made paying attention to the world around him far less rewarding in comparison. Unwittingly feeding into Elie’s intent for the event, the minutes that he spent attempting to drain her breast were spent by the young woman on a completion of her trip over to his bed and a comfortable coddling of his frame atop it.

This was not to say that concentrating on mothering her child was any easier for her in comparison. Every morsel of satisfaction and positive affect that she derived over the course of Nicol’s suckling from her breast was matched by the slightest increase in temperature for the soothing warmth that had engulfed her uterus. Perspiring internally as only a woman could, the persistence of this heat soon resulted in a slow, sap-dense outflow of her feminine lubricants out against the squishy inner surface of her thighs.

Trying as her circumstance became over time, Elie did not allow _mere_ sexual arousal to rob her of intimacy with her child. So as to not become too distracted to function, she locked her gleaming thighs in against one another, and soon enough put her mind to work on something that did not concern rumination on the need that had begun to bloom inside her.

In her mind, an eternity had passed since the last time she had laid eyes on Nicol. Now more so than ever, she needed to remind him of the comfort that could only be found within her embrace.

Once set to it, her mind proved very productive in this task. Following a mild tightening of her cradling of his frame, verbal affirmation began draining past her lips at the same pace that milk was drawn from her breast.

“…I really haven’t done anything right these past two years, have I, sweetie?” she began, calmly. “I could have been doing so much more for myself and for you. I really should have, too; feeling bad about the way my life turned out is no excuse.”

Though she spoke these words down at Nicol, her pace and cadence suggested that she was not expecting him to pause his suckling to answer. If anything, these things suggested that the only person she truly intended to address was herself.

“But not anymore. I can do this for you now, and if I get well enough to leave this hospital, I’ll be able to do so much more. I don’t think it will be anytime soon, and I doubt I’ll be able to make much progress if you’re not there with me, but…”

In her focus on these utterances, Elie eventually moved her thoughts away from her arousal and back towards the happiness that she had felt when first she hugged Nicol against her breasts. Suddenly subjected to an amplified form of this emotion, the same tears that had welled within her eyes then began dribbling down across her cheeks a second time.

These, however, only fell far enough downwards to wet the beginnings of her breasts.

“I’m gonna try, okay? Watch Mommy nice and close and I promise that I’ll make you proud of me.”

“Just you…”

“Watch ♥.”

Ever the roller-coaster of emotion, a composite of her own sobbing and a subtle intensification in Nicol’s suckling proved sufficient to pluck a series of nerves within Elie from her chest straight down to the core of her uterus. Momentarily robbed of her knowledge of where she was and what she was doing, the sexual starvation that she had endured over the course of 2 agonizing years bent her line of sight down along Nicol’s frame towards his crotch.

There, a bulge underneath his hospital gown stared back at her. Sizeable relative to the frame that it was attached to and directly in line with what she had imagined her ‘son’s’ endowment might look like, the sight of it made the throbbing warmth within her uterus grow worse.

Every second that she stared was a second that her circumstance became direr. Within 5, she could only hear her own heartbeat. 10 saw her raise her right hand away from Nicol’s lower body and push it inward towards contact with his crotch. 11 set her palm atop his stomach. 12 found her fingers underneath his gown. 13 exposed her fingers to the drooling bloat of his precum-lathered glans.

14 did see her palm envelope the beginnings of his cock, but 15 did not see her begin stroking. At that moment, a flash of motion within the corner of her eye demanded that she turn her attention towards the door she had walked through minutes prior.

Situated opposite the door was a naked young woman owning a full head of pony-tail drawn silver hair, and eyes tranquil enough to appear perpetually closed. Fidgety and frustrated in posture, the gaze that Elie cast towards her fished an outburst from her throat the moment that it was fixed.

Truthfully, as produced from a frame as ample and pale as her own, what she produced was not so much an outburst as it was a squeak.

“E-Excuse me, Miss. I don’t mean to raise my voice, but…”

“May I ask why you're making my son drink your milk?”

Dumbfounded, Elie found herself without a single avenue with which to respond to the silver-haired woman’s claim. So far as she was concerned, Nicol was her son. Not her biological son, and certainly not a child that she had adopted, but a child who’s rearing was her responsibility (and hers alone).

That another woman might claim otherwise—particularly a naked woman with breasts nearly as large as her own—was as much confusing for her as it was infuriating.

So long did the livid silence incited between the pair drag on that Nicol exhausted his supply of the liquid ‘distraction’ he had used to ignore the event well before it could be replaced by something else. Privy to it in his own juvenile way, his final gulp of milk was followed by a disengagement of his lips, and an exhausted flop flat within Elie’s embrace. Having evidently bitten off more of a task than he could chew, lamentation began spilling from his lips soon afterwards.

“Dr.Ledh didn’t say that helping would be this hard…” he complained. “Now how am I gonna fix this?”

_-_

**_Nicol — Patient Symptomatology & Rehabilitation Record #3_ **

_Maintained and authored by Dr. Hector Ledh, Senior Pediatric Specialist. To be deleted at his discretion._

_Day 285: As predicted, Elie Seaside and Angelina Cruz have made considerable strides towards recovery throughout the weeks they’ve spent within the Serin Facility. I’ll admit here and now that my decision to pair them up with Nicol one at a time was a decision far too ‘safe’ to be called a genuine experiment, but what the administration doesn’t know won’t hurt them. Of importance to me is the fact that their recovery has come entirely as a result of their time with Nicol. Nearly a year ago, I did not believe that anything positive could come of his disposition. To be proven wrong so soundly makes all of the corners I’ve cut seem like very small prices to pay in the grand scheme of things._

_Really, my only regrets towards the experiment lie in its background and some of its more extraneous consequents._

_Both Angelina and Elie were selected for the severity of their depression and their lack of prospects for recovery. Whereas Elie’s stemmed from a miscarriage, Angelina’s came as a result of her child succumbing to a congenital defect in their heart._

_Initially, I believed that these cases represented the lowest odds of ‘success’ for Nicol. I recognized that he was likely to succeed anyway, but the fundamental premise of the experiment was to determine whether or not a woman’s experiences might render her immune to the changes imposed on them by contact with him._

_This was a miscalculation. By selecting women so far removed from reality, I inadvertently catalysed a form of attachment far stronger than what the other women within the facility maintain towards him. Within seconds of meeting one another, Angelina began to regard Nicol as her son. However, when questioned on the subject, she displayed no signage of psychosis or instability. Somehow, contact with the boy resulted in her becoming grounded in reality as you and I know it while at the same time embracing one of her own making. Though amicable to information that denied her any real relation to him, the presentation of said information did not stop her from treating him as she wished. Inexplicably gifted with memories and a sense of responsibility unique to motherhood, she presumed his care—and by proxy, her capacity for providing said care—to be responsibilities of hers._

_Elie was the same. Though introduced to Nicol two weeks after Angelina whilst Angelina herself was supposed to be absent, a near identical shift in perspective was observed in her. After a short period of intense distaste towards one another, the two of them even managed to forget their misgivings toward one another in favor of a more pleasant experience for Nicol._

_This leads me to my second regret. I cannot be certain how these women will handle discharge from the Serin Facility at the end of the program, nor can I determine whether or not their mental states will revert if denied contact with him. If inadvertently, I have created another pair of dependants for a physical disposition I am trying to cure._

_More so than ever, I find myself wondering if what has become of this child is worth curing at all._

_Day 335: A great deal of time has passed since my last entry. This comes as a result of the stifling of my investigations by job action performed by the nursing staff of the Serin Facility. I suppose it is not worth discussing here as it hardly pertains to Nicol, but perhaps someone else might be able to draw conclusions from my accounts in the future._

_Following Angelina and Elie’s introduction into the facility, sentiment regarding the working conditions for its nurses began to sour amongst those concerned. The timing of it was irrelevant—no ill will was directed towards Angelina and Elie. Evidently, their arrival just so happened to coincide with a boiling over of concerns maintained for months on end._

_Set in legal position for strike action, the nurses selected this route unanimously. Adopting a platform centered on the care that they provided to children—a platform that Nicol was used as a mascot for—they produced a set of reasonable demands whose fulfillment would see these children cared for even better than before_

_Incidentally, Nicol took full advantage of the changes that consumed the facility. I imagine that this was because of his being involved with it against his will—he has always had a tendency to make the best of situations he can’t control. After speaking to him about it, his perception of it was much like a game. Provided the nurses won, having a bit of fun along the way was, by his definition, harmless._

_And win they did—with him as their motivation, I doubt that they considered failure as much of an option. They did engage in strike action for a few weeks, but a single negotiation session was all it took for them to reach a settlement with the administration. I can’t speak to how it went exactly, but if you’re curious about the conclusion, there’s a photograph of the event in the nurse’s lounge._

_Nicol is in it as well. I think he was given a copy to remember the day by, too..._

-

**SERIN FACILITY POSTAL ROOM— NOVEMBER 1 ST 1PM**

Within a room dominated by stationary and several significant piles of mail stood two men in the midst of their organization. Differing in ages yet identical in dress, their appearances suggested an affiliation with the support staff of M. Ulster General. Given the speed with which they divided up the postage that surrounded them, one could have inferred as much from their work ethics as well. Within minutes of embarking on the task, the mail messily strewn out across the room was distributed atop a pair delivery carts between them in preparation for delivery. Other messes cluttering the room’s floor space remained to be dealt with, but relative to the effort they had exerted, this was as good a start as any.

The first of the men to finish with the organization of his pile was the oldest of the pair. Capped and polo-clad, the completion of his effort tempted his gaze into a sweep across the interior of the postal room until what it took in soured his visage beyond recognition.

Exhaling deeply, this souring saw the older man address his younger counterpart before any further time could be wasted.

“Looks like we got fucked by the last shift pretty good this time, huh, Denys? Hard to believe they let postage from three weeks ago just sit in here like this.” he chortled, dryly. “There’s no sense in both of us wasting time in here with the amount of mail we’ve got to deliver. You want to get a head start on the deliveries while I focus on cleaning up in here?”

Addressed, the young male referred to as Denys stood upright from a final stacking of mail atop his cart to look back at his co-worker with curiosity.

“You sure? Won’t we be finished faster if both of us just focus on the room?” he suggested.

Though the older man nodded his head at Denys’ suggestion, the response that he produced didn’t compliment the gesture.

“Oh, for sure. Normally, you wouldn’t have heard a peep from me until we finished.” he replied. “That said, I happened to spot a letter on my cart for that little guy at the Serin Facility. Fuck, what’s his name? You know the one, right?”

“Nicol?” Denys replied.

“Yeah, him. Looks like it might be from the nurse’s union, too. With all the strike action that’s been going on, it’s probably better that gets to him sooner rather than later—what with its being three weeks old and all.” he explained. “You’ve got the faster legs, so it only makes sense that you handle it. Sound good?”

Measured in his approaches, Denys was not one to question the judgement of a veteran—much less the one that had taught him the ropes of his job. Shrugging, he walked across the room up to a position opposite the driving-side of the older man’s cart, then reached out with both hands to secure its handle.

This done, he turned his head back towards his co-worker and nodded in compliance.

“Alright, I guess I’m off. I’ll be back once I’m done with everything on this cart, so don’t work yourself too hard, alright?” he suggested.

“Ah, you know me. I’ll probably manage in here somehow.” the older man replied. “Tell the kid that Mr. Armdel says hello, too. Knowing him, he’ll probably get a kick out of it.”

Behind a final nod of understanding, Denys pushed his weight forward to begin pressing the cart ahead of him out of the mailroom. Banking a sharp left once past its mouth, patterns of progression laid into his mind by months spent on the job saw his legs begin carrying him towards his destination without his needing to reconfirm its location to himself beforehand.

For him, frequency had bred familiarity. As a result of the regular visits that he paid to the facility for work-related reasons and his own more leisurely excursions into its confines, all of the best routes that one might take to enter it had been traversed by him at one point or another. Consequentially, the majority of his trip (with the exclusion of a handful of elevator rides) was spent by Denys in a state of pleasant preoccupation. Typical as the pediatric facility appeared to be in every aspect other than its scale, the volume and quality of its female staff members made it a very desirable location for a young man to idle away their time on the clock within. Naturally, this made it prime ‘fuel’ for daydreaming as well.

Not surprisingly, the extent of Denys’ affinity for the location resulted in his arriving in it well ahead of schedule. At the facility’s base, a quick stop within its reception area bled into a short walk towards its primary elevators, then a final elevator ride up to the floor that housed Nicol -----.

Throughout these minutes of progression, Denys did not once focus his gaze on where he was going. A mixture of nurses and lanyard-clad volunteers—each one dressed in some version of the scant nothingness mandated for women within the facility—ensured that his attention was almost always pulled elsewhere. However appealing, the pasties, mini-skirts, and athletic shorts that sometimes constituted their uniforms were far too ‘normal’ to hold his attention for long. More often than not, it was the female frames atop which this clothing sat and the variety in their owners’ appearances that kept him fixated on their presences.

Denys did not know it, but his ogling was much more purposeful than it appeared to be. By regularly gluing his eyes to these women, fluctuations in the ‘state’ of the Serin Facility were made apparent to him as a matter of course.

Presently, this state was more tumultuous than any he could recall in his time working within the hospital. At a glance, only half of the nurses and volunteers typically present on the facility’s first floor could be seen making their rounds.

If worrisome, this was not unexpected. In the midst of job action, rotating strikes were a common tactic proposed by unions as leverage for negotiations. Given that the nurses’ union had yet to arrive at a settlement weeks after stating their demands, increasingly pervasive strike action—enough to significantly hamper the facility’s function without crippling it outright—was to be expected moving forward.

Utterly unexpected, however, was the performance of said strike action within the facility itself. Upon arrival at the 4th floor, the first step that Denys took out of the elevator very nearly pressed the front of his cart into a slender nurse outfitted in a bikini.

Picket-sign in hand, the near-collision did not seem to bother her much. At a glance, she had far more important things to worry about—namely the nurses protesting behind her. After making his way past them, comparable groups of women treading their own paths throughout the floor appeared within his line of sight one after another.

As he progressed, the protest’s organization left a considerable impression on him. Despite the number of staff members on the floor, maneuvering towards his destination was not at all difficult. Additionally, all of the doors leading into patient bedrooms were closed. Like this, the children cared for by these nurses were spared contact with the ‘realities’ of healthcare as a profession, and could be covertly looked in on by a given nurse as required.

Curiously, an exception to the ‘rules’ that Denys discerned appeared at his destination. Ahead of a familiar door opened wide enough to fully expose the room behind it were a number of nurses content to march in a circle ahead of it.

At the sight of it, Denys did not stop to think twice. Parking his cart, he sifted through its contents in search of the letter mentioned by his co-worker until the slender envelope became the only one clutched within his palm. With it, he made his way towards the open door without a single glance at the bouncing breasts and wobbling rears shamelessly flaunted ahead of him.

These, much like the entirety of the Serin Facility, were par for the course.

Behind a casual greeting to the nurses themselves, a gap was made for him to squeeze himself into the room and present himself.

The moment he was through, he began speaking before he could be spoken to.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. Got a special delivery for you here, kiddo.” he began, eyes bent down towards the envelope within his right hand. “Says here it’s from the nurses’ union, so Mr. Armdel wanted me to run it over here before I started with my other deliveries.”

After completing this utterance, Denys naturally shifted his gaze toward the hospital bed set at the head of the room. Upon doing so, what he laid eyes on strung a thin chuckle from between his lips.

Evidently, even strike action was not capable of changing the ‘status-quo’ for the room’s interior.

“Want me to bring it over, or are you fine if I leave it on the bed?”

The reason for the offer that he produced was embedded into its contents. Nicol -----—the child to which the envelope was addressed—was presently in no position to stand and receive his delivery. Laid out naked across a mattress surface that he shared with 3 of his foremost nurses (each one naked or very close to it), both sides of his frame could be seen sandwiched between a pair of bloated breasts and invitingly bare midsections whilst his back sat ‘flat’ against another ample female torso.

The boy’s indisposition was not merely a matter of the buoyant flesh smothered against him. Presently, Nicol’s mouth could be seen latched onto the leaking left nipple of the brunette laid out to his right. Complimentarily, the silver-haired woman to his left had come into Denys’ line of sight in the midst of pumping her semen-smeared right hand up and down the swollen erection rooted to Nicol’s crotch. Finally, albeit forgettably, the dark-haired woman whose midsection he was laying against had saw fit to wrap both of her arms into a soft embrace of his collar bone whilst resting her chin atop the center of head.

Witness to a great many excerpts from Nicol’s daily life, Denys reasoned that the latest was one wherein paying attention to the arrival of mail at his door would prove impossible for him. For as often as he seemed to endure attention of this sort, managing it effectively was not one of the boy’s strong suits.

These facts—and not the one that concerned three adult women engaging in questionable physical and sexual contact with such a small child—sat at the root of Denys’ offer to deliver Nicol’s mail more personally. For reasons he neither understood nor questioned, sexual contact between Nicol and the female staff that cared for him was to him no different than the more traditional forms of care that these women doled out to other children. No matter the severity of his nurses’ actions or the number of them concerned, what his eyes took in was perceived by him as something commonplace enough to be forgettable.

And forget he did—each and every time.

Unsurprisingly, the women that he had walked in on displayed a similar, yet fundamentally different form of indifference. Right up until his mentioning of a letter for Nicol, not one of the trio acknowledged his presence with a wave or glance. Utterly focused on their ‘work’ in spite of its pertaining to expressing affection towards a child, it took the suggestion of something related to him—something relevant—to bring one of them out from the miniature world they had created and into reality.

Exhaling, the brunette at Nicol’s right gently popped her nipple out of his mouth and turned towards her coworkers with a frown on her face.

“Angie? Morgan? Seriously?” she sighed. “Were you two really going to let Denys put Nicol’s mail on the bed? Angie gets a pass, but last I checked, we’re still on the clock, Morgan.” she complained, frown projecting . “Ugh, one of you is getting the next one, I swear.”

Sliding to her feet as though the sexual-fluid glued between her thighs and the milk drooling from nipples was of no consequence, she sauntered her way up from the edge of Nicol’s bed to a position standing ahead of Denys. Once close enough, she slipped the letter he had brandished out of his hand whilst pushing a mild smile across her face.

“Thank you so much for coming to deliver this by yourself, Denys. I’d have went and gotten the mail myself, but some of the nurses thought it’d be a good idea to picket in front of Nicol’s room. He likes being able to watch it, but it makes getting in and out of here a bit of a pain.” she explained. “If it’s from the union, hopefully they won’t need to do it for much longer, though, haha.”

To this, Denys simply chuckled and shrugged.

“No problem, Mirielia. I know you guys usually have your hands full looking after Nicol—all the striking probably isn’t helping.” he replied. “Good luck with all of that, alright? I heard that having him here is giving you guys a lot to barter with, so hopefully it goes alright.”

This time, Mirielia produced a slight nod in response and gestured to begin walking back towards Nicol’s bed. Recognizing her priorities, Denys turned himself, and shifted his gaze towards Nicol.

Much to his surprise, the boy reciprocated.

“Alright, time for me to get to the rest of these deliveries. Don’t have too much fun, alright, Nicol? Mr.Armdel says hello, too!” Denys chirped, waving.

“Haha, okay! Thanks for coming, Denys—oh, tell him I said hi, too!” Nicol replied.

With this, the air of Nicol’s bedroom endured a considerable shift in quality. As Denys departed, Mirielia returned to her position up against Nicol’s right, and the amount of contact smothering the boy loosened. Angie—the silver-haired woman that he had laid atop—loosened the hug she had placed around his neck, and Morgan—the woman to his left—ceased her stroking of his mast so as to allow the boy to focus.

Subsequently, the focal point of the room became the letter within Mirielia’s hand.

“Looks like we finally got a response, at least.” Morgan started. “I wonder why they felt the need to send it in writing, though?”

Once returned to a comfortable cuddle up against Nicol’s side, Mirielia tore open the envelope she had received in hopes of answering this question.

“Beats me. They addressed it to Nicol, so it sounds like they know the stance we’re going to take.” she replied. “Some news is better than no news, though. Now we know that all of the effort we’re putting in is finally getting to them!”

Brimming with confidence, Mirielia’s extraction of the letter was not followed by a transition into reading its contents. Instead recognizing an opportunity for an activity, she pushed the unfolded sheet of paper towards Nicol’s front so as to encourage him to take it.

“Nicol, do you want to read what it says for us? It is your letter after all.” she suggested, sweetly.

Caught in the midst of stretching his arms in an attempt at undoing their languidness, Nicol produced a firm nod and a sweetly-toned “Sure!” the moment he was finished with the task. Yet to accomplish anything of importance with his morning (presuming sexual satiation was unimportant), reading something of importance to the women around him struck him as a far more important task than it was in reality.

All the same, it was something to do. Relative to the monotony of the preceding few weeks, its ubiquity alone was enough validation for him to reach out with both hands to take up the sheet of paper.

With it in hand, he made himself more comfortable against Angie’s front and began to read.

_“Addressed to the nursing staff of the Serin Facility,”_

_“The complaints that we have lodged to the admini…uh…administration have resulted in a formal call for resolution. To facilitate this, a team of administration negotiators will be sent to the Serin Facility on the afternoon of November 1st with the intention of penning a labour agreement that is beneficial to both sides.”_

_“We have chosen to send you notification of this three weeks in advance of the intended date to facilitate more meaningful discussion on the issues presented. We are aware that the facility staff has been prepared for such negotiations for some time, but the use of this additional time is strongly represented by the union.”_

_“We wish you luck with these negotiations and will stand by the push for further arbitration as necessary.”_

_“Sincerely, M.Ulster General Nurses Union.”_

After finishing with the text typed onto the sheet of paper, Nicol’s primary takeaway was completely unrelated to its contents. Both excited and ignorant, he swept his gaze across the faces of the women surrounding him to see whether or not they had arrived at the same conclusion he had.

When it became apparent that they hadn’t—this indicated by the shock and confusion that had consumed their profiles—he spoke out to present it to them anyway.

“Hey, isn’t the 1st today?” he chirped, innocently. “The letter said that some people were gonna come on that day. Does that mean we’re going to have guests?”

Nicol’s deduction was correct, but none of the women surrounding him could bring themselves to confirm as much.

To do so was to confirm that within less than an hours’ time, each of them were likely to end up engaged in negotiations on behalf of the entire nursing staff of the Serin Facility—this without any of the ‘additional preparation time’ that had been promised by their union.

Being a pair of nurses and a postpartum depression patient, this reality was not one that they wished to face. Nevertheless, they had no choice. If they wished to remain with the boy around them, facing their circumstance and overcoming it was the only choice left for them.

This in mind, all three of the women eventually turned their attention towards Nicol just as he had hoped they would.

Dumbfounded by their seriousness, Nicol found himself unable to do much more than stare right back and quietly inquire as to what had changed within them.

“Uh…” he began.

“Is everything okay?”

-

**SUCCESSFUL NEGOTIATIONS**

The concepts of striking, job action, and formal negotiation between a union group and an administrative team were just slightly too complex for Nicol to completely understand. What they were and how they worked was not lost on him; the explanations that he had received from the women that he spent time with ensured that this, if nothing else, was firmly impressed into him. Conversely, their importance to society, and more relevantly, their criticality to the shape of his daily life within the Serin Facility, went right over his head. As none of the women around him wished to sour his mood by discussing the fallout oft associated with these things, a foundation atop which he could build towards his own conclusions was never provided to him.

Being a child, Nicol’s ignorance resulted in his handling these things without any of the candor or prudence that they deserved.

Faced with the arrival of administration negotiators within an hour’s time, the nursing staff within the Serin Facility hurriedly constructed a negotiation team consisting of (all of the names), and Nicol—the poster child for their cause. Having a child sit in on formal negotiations between a union and employer was not a part of their original plan for the fateful meeting, but following the selection of their team members, pushing for it became their only choice. Without him, the strongest of their negotiators threatened to prioritize his care over discussion concerning their jobs.

Much to the nurses’ surprise, the paradoxical nature of the stance taken by their peers was not called out by the administration’s negotiators upon their arrival. Made privy to Nicol’s circumstance by way of the formal investigations performed to determine the validity of the union’s demands, allowing him into the meeting so that his health might be monitored served as the first ‘olive branch’ that they extended towards their disgruntled employees.

In facilitating this, the administration unwittingly doomed the minutes of their negotiation session to a series of circumstances that, in any other scenario, would have resulted in uproar on a near national scale. Without knowledge as to the importance of what was being discussed or the difference between the negotiation room and his hospital bed, Nicol used his presence within the negotiation room to ‘enjoy’ his nurses’ presence in the same way that he usually did. Paying very little attention to the goings on of the meeting, he instead regularly pattered from one end of the table to the next quietly tugging one of the nurses into ‘paying attention’ to him.

On occasion, his doing so was harmless—blatant obscenity aside. Other times, his actions were so outrageous that the indifference they garnered was made to appear all the more shocking (presuming an observer remained grounded enough in normalcy to endure such feelings).

Needless to say, instances of the former were far more numerous than the latter.

“…Alright, let’s move on to our last subject. Correct me if I’m wrong, but one of your primary demands was a 2% per year wage increase over the next 5 years, right?” speaking out in a voice choked by exasperation, a suited moderator forcibly changed the topic at hand in a blatant attempt at avoiding a dead end after success.

Professional even in his blatancy, a brief adjustment of his glasses preceded the continuation of his descent into this new topic.

“Your validation was the increasing volume of patients the Serin Facility houses and the recent upturn in responsibility that nurses have been made to carry as a result of our doctors being spread more thinly. Per our investigation, we cannot refute that this has become the case.” he continued. “That said, 2% is too sharp. 1.45% is the most that we can offer. Mathematically, we believe that this is a fair increase even after taking into account the increased cost of living.”

“Ms.Truaste, when you’ve finished your drink, can I have your opinion on this? I’d prefer to get an initial take from you as lead on compensation before your side takes any time for deliberation.” he continued.

Unaffected and utterly serious, the suited negotiator directed this question towards Mirielia in the midst of watching the cock of a jarringly-underage boy slide into and out from her spittle-greased lips. Modest in both length and girth, what inches were drawn out of her mouth per stroke that the boy completed suggested that the full length of his cock just barely teased the beginnings of her throat after a full hilt. All the same, the intensity at which he maintained his thrusts and the excess of salivation produced within her mouth made it seem as though her gag-reflex had been tested many a time by his thrusting salvo (hence his suggestion that she drink).

The negotiator was well aware that this could not be the case, however. All throughout negotiation on the tabled subject, no egregious *GLURPS* or *GULKS* indicative of Mirielia gagging on Nicol’s cock had been forced out into the room’s airspace. From start to finish, her seated position had been postured off to the left of the table ahead of her, and her torso had been bent downward at the waist so as to keep her face level with the thrusts that Nicol drove against it. Overall, the only noise that left her skull was a persistent chain of mucus-mired *PLAPPS* to be expected of a hairless, saliva-drenched crotch’s repeated compression against a pair of lips. Each one produced without an accompanying cringe or shudder from Mirielia’s frame, her comfort with throating the full length of his cock was conveyed within seconds of her committing to the act.

Though largely unconcerned with the young woman’s sexual prowess, what he laid eyes on led him to conclude that Mirielia’s sloppiness was a matter of preference as opposed to debilitation.

Being a negotiator, the suited man’s deductions were not very far off from the truth. In reality, Mirielia had used Nicol’s driving his cock in and out of her mouth as an excuse to make her oral cavity as sticky and soupy as possible. Doing so typically coaxed her favorite patient into fucking the confines of her mouth with much more aggression than was the ‘norm’ for him. Given that his satisfaction was the ultimate goal for the act, doing her utmost to bring it about quickly only made sense.

Presently, however, making him cum quickly was of even greater importance to her. Despite doing her best to hold her left eye in a focused glare at the negotiator that had addressed her, the amount of intimidation—a trait that she was in dire need of—that she could convey with her nostrils buried against the semen-scented crotch of a child was likely quite low.

This aside, Nicol’s attention was already split between her frame and Elie’s. Whether by coincidence or design, the placement of her seat (Elie’s) behind her own (specifically behind and to the left) allowed for Nicol to reach up and knead the meat of her breasts with his left hand whilst holding on to the top of her (Mirielia’s) skull with his right. With his attentions split, there could be no telling when his preoccupation with Elie’s breasts might slow the pace of his thrusts altogether.

More fearful of delivering a tardy response than she was of speaking whilst cum drooled out of her nose, Mirielia eventually turned out of her glare to focus herself on Nicol’s crotch.

Tightening her grasp on the fringes of his thighs, she paused for a split second to close her eyes and prepare herself to produce what needed to be done.

“He really is getting used to the way my mouth feels, huh? Looks like I’ll have to be a bit more aggressive moving forward.” she thought to herself. “It does mean he’s getting healthier, so that’s good. He’ll need all of that energy if we ever get to go to a park with him or—ugh, come on! Focus, Mirielia! You’re in the middle of a conversation; hurry up and get this over with!”

A single internal outburst of chastisement was all that the young woman needed to push forward. With this, she began pushing and wrenching Nicol’s crotch in against her face with both hands whilst simultaneously pressing her lips deeper against the root of his cock. Forcing the depth of his hilts further inward by an inch and separating his starved cockflesh from contact with the beginnings of her throat with abandon, she in doing so replaced Nicol’s spirited skewering of her face with a more forward milking of his shaft.

Whilst engaged in this, both the spittle within her mouth and the relative tininess of Nicol’s frame were used to her advantage. By tightening her lips compression to the root of his cock, the added salivation welled within her mouth by the repeated insertion and extraction of his cock made the orifice into an even sloppier masturbation toy than it had been before. The smooth underside of his cock was pinned against a writhing tongue face smeared with the substance, and the leaking nose of his glans was repeatedly kissed by a curved tunnel of bloated throatflesh that was completely clogged with it. Through this, her ravenous plant-and-reel of his crotch against her face became more impactful. No longer could it be said that Nicol was fucking a taut, lubricated mouth primed to acceptant him. Following her transition, it became far more accurate to say that this mouth was attempting to consume him.

The success that Mirielia found in shamelessly goring her throat this way exceeded her expectations. Owed to the inane amount of time that she spent tending to Nicol’s cock with her mouth, the first full minute of metronomic pumping for her forearms eventually resulted in an orgasmic squeak spilling from the boy’s lips. Followed aptly by a sharp inward thrust from his hips that again plugged her nostrils with the scents and messes strewn out across his crotch, the orgasm that she had hoped to induce in him hit her when the tip of his cock was pressed to its deepest kissing point within the beginnings of her throat.

‘Tragically’, she soon found that her efforts had been too effective. The first eruption of plaster-white seed that jetted out from the nose of Nicol’s member was both thick enough and lengthy enough to skip past the back of her throat towards a basting of her esophagus. Worse still, the volume that it contained was significant enough for the fringes of her nasal cavity to become ‘enamoured’ with what amounts of it collided with the flesh at the back of her throat. Immediately supplemented by similarly massive bursts, the pressurized discharges resulted in the tadpole-riddled glue finding a second home within the interior of her nostrils. Albeit not to the extent that her esophagus was glutted with the substance, the unfolding of Nicol’s orgasm left her nostrils stuffed with enough cum to impose a muted blurt of their contents out against his crotch.

While not usually bothered by particularly large orgasms from Nicol, Mirielia’s circumstance was one wherein she’d have preferred to avoid such a massive release. Whereas compilation of the quark-like mire against the beginnings of her esophagus could be dealt with by swallowing, the only means of clearing what amounts of it ended up within her nose was blowing it. In the midst of serious discourse, blowing semen out of her nose simply wasn’t possible.

Thus, she improvised. Accepting her congested fate, she pulled her lips up and off of the length of Nicol’s cock, abruptly pressed his crotch away from her face, and again rotated her frame back to a dead-on stare with the negotiator ahead of her.

“…W-Well, if you really have done the research, you should know that 1.5% is a much more reasonable offer.” finally responding to the question that had been directed towards her minutes prior, Mirielia just barely managed to produce a tone stern enough for her obvious congestion to be perceived as less apparent than it actually was. “I might be young, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to negotiate the best deal I can for my coworkers. I am not suggesting that you’re trying to walk all over me; as this is the last issue to be discussed, I am merely fulfilling my obligation to meet you compromise with one of my own.”

“Surely a difference of 0.5% is not too large of a sum for the administration to part with in return for the signage of a deal?” she added, grinning.

Despite being produced by a throat smeared with semen and owned by a woman whose nostrils were drooling with the substance, Mirielia’s rebuttal gave the suited negotiator a great deal to think about. Tempted by the wording that she had used and the confidence that she had managed to muster after gulping down a significant volume of semen, his instincts suggested that the decisions made here and now would determine whether or not all of the agreements made in the preceding few hours would become the backbone for a new labor agreement.

His instincts were rarely wrong. In adherence to their judgement, he cast a knowing glance towards his peers, and at last subverted the tightness within his visage so as to begin projecting a jovial grin.

Today, he had learned that nurses could be as skilled at negotiation as they were at caregiving. If this was not a reason to grin, what was would forever remain beyond him.

“In that case, why split hairs? 1.5% it is.” he replied. “No one at the board is going to be happy to hear that I caved, but they’ll just have to deal with it. In negotiation, whatever leeway is provided should be used to the fullest. If it gets me a resolution, I’m happy.”

“Besides, I’d hate for us to have to start from scratch and keep that little tyke of yours from getting the rest that he needs. It seems like he’s kept busy so far, but I’m sure he must be going stir crazy by now.”

Collectively, the suited male’s loosening brought a sigh of relief out of Mirielia and her peers. Beginning with Mirielia’s worn flop back against the spine of her seat, Elie, Vanessa, Morgan, and Angelina each produced their own slump forwards or backwards whilst quietly jubilating about their success.

With the exclusion of Elie and Angelina, the victory they had earned was as much for their livelihoods as it was for themselves. Against considerable odds, each of them had proved ‘good enough’ to fight for and win something that they desired. Beginning from ‘places’ rife with insecurity, indifference, and self-loathing, success such as this was more than they had thought possible for themselves.

For the child that had served as a large part of their motivation to achieve this success, the negotiation session’s completion merely marked the end to an especially-boring string of hours. Left somewhat wobbly from the orgasm he had enjoyed within Mirielia’s mouth, the sounds of positive affect that began to flow throughout the room told Nicol that his nurses had attained a happy ending for themselves in their struggle against ‘union negotiations’.

Uninterested in the specifics of their success, his processing of this fact led the youth’s behavior to degenerate further. Behind an effortful patter out from his self-imposed encirclement between Mirielia and Elie, he brought himself as far as a tottering standing position near Morgan’s seat at the left side of the table. Quick to recognize her preoccupation with celebration, he hoisted himself up into a seated position atop her lap, then stood upright so as to set his naked crotch and her naked torso opposite one another.

In place, he took hold of the root of his semi-erect shaft and leaned forward. Completely indifferent to the fact that he was blocking her line of sight, he brought his crotch just close enough to the exposed meat of her cleavage to allow him to wipe the spittle and semen coating his erection off against the face of her breasts.

Delirium considered, the level of effectiveness that he displayed in this was impressive. Rather than haphazardly dragging his cock across the same fraction of breast flesh, each stroke of his member was delivered against a different fraction of the healthy-colored mounds. Like this, the glaze of semen globs and spittle mildly caked to its exterior were painlessly transferred onto Morgan’s breasts within seconds of his embarking on the effort.

So brief was his cleaning session that even Morgan herself only recognized what she had been used for when he finished. Seeing the act as no different from the other forms of affection that Nicol doled out, her discovery of his presence led her to take hold of him by the hips and draw his frame down into a seated position atop her lap.

Smiling all the while, the forced shift even came with an affectionate whisper attached to it.

“I know you must be a little bored by now, but having you here has made a big difference, Nicol.” she whispered. “We’re almost finished, though. Would you like to sit nice and comfy on my lap while we wait?”

Morgan’s suggestion was music to Nicol’s ears. Already seated atop her lap, he wiggled backwards to align his back with the warmth of her midsection and rest his head up against the lower half of her cleavage.

Consumed by comfort, the climax she had mentioned quickly became his focus. Again training his gaze on the other adults within the room, Nicol found that many of them had already stood out of their seats.

Strangely, none of them were moving towards the room’s sole entranceway. With the exception of Vanessa, all of them seemed to be in the midst of crowding in to a position beside or behind where Morgan was seated.

Before he could speak out to inquire as to why, an answer to his question was rendered in the form of an outburst.

“…That’s right, squeeze in as much as you can! I know we were at each other’s’ throats a few minutes ago, but we should be able to stand each other long enough to take a photo!” the suited male exclaimed. “It’s not every day that sessions like this get resolved on day 1, so it’ll be good to have a memento for it. It’ll give our little patient here something to look back on when he’s older, too.”

“I’m going to go ahead and get the timer started. Really try to lean over the table to get a pen in your hand, alright, Vanessa? We’ll worry about an official signage later; as long as it looks like we’re penning something, it won’t matter.”

With this, it became apparent to Nicol that both groups were going to be taking a photograph together. Ordinarily, something like this would have stood out to him as a prime opportunity to make his presence within the meeting meaningful.

Needlessly to say, his definition of ‘ordinary’ excluded scenarios wherein Vanessa bent her naked frame across a table mere inches away from his frame. Situated such that the firm bubble of buttocks flesh mounted to her rear was left well within the span of his arms, _not_ using the situation to his advantage was likely to have caused him a certain amount of distress.

Following the suited male’s signal, he began to time himself. Raising his right palm off of his lap, he drew the limb out into a preparative hold inches away from Vanessa’s ass.

By the time the flash from the suited male’s smartphone filled the room, his reflexes delivered his palm exactly where it was supposed to be: mashed into the fat of Vanessa’s ass for the center world to see…


	3. These Niggas Really Tried to Audit the Serin Facility. No Cap; That's Retarded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble strikes the Serin Facility in the form of suspicion and dissatisfaction with the use of its funding. Can Nicol somehow influence the female auditors sent by the government to take back a positive assessment of the facility, or will he simply pour an obscene volume of semen between their tits and not really contribute to much else at all?
> 
> Later, a physical education program developed to include some of the innumerable milfs from the facility and healthy teenaged girls from a local highschool is developed with his participation in mind. Surely he'll be able to make some kind of positive impact in an atheistic studio containing four adult women not at all addicted to his presence?

**_Nicol — Patient Symptomatology & Rehabilitation Record #4_ **

__

_ -Maintained and authored by Dr. Hector Ledh, Senior Pediatric Specialist. To be deleted at his discretion. _

_ Day 366: A year has passed since Nicol’s delivery into the Serin Facility and the initiation of his treatment. There are several current events that I intend to detail within this entry, but I’d be remiss to gloss over his anniversary here as something irrelevant.  _

  
  


_ A small-scale party was thrown for him by the women within the facility, many of whom he hadn’t been in contact with prior. Based on this, I think I can move forward under the assumption that every female associated with this facility is now in some way familiar with what he is. I suppose I could have inferred that from the amount of time that has passed; the facility is only so large, and hiring was occurring at a much slower pace leading up to the labor dispute. For what staff we had beforehand, meeting with him at some point in some place was likely inevitable. _

  
  


_ Regardless, I am confident that the party can be used as a form of confirmation moving forward. The number of faces I saw around Nicol throughout the day varied enough to suggest regular rotation. Many of these faces reminded me of a mother’s elation on the anniversary of their child’s birth, but with Nicol, this expression doesn’t surprise me much anymore. At any rate, if we assume that the rotation was maintained over the course of the party’s duration, there is no reason to doubt that all of the women here have been exposed to him.  _

  
  


_ Half a year ago, this fact would have been very concerning to me. The only thing that I feel now is relief; preventing the augmentation of these women was impossible to begin with, so it almost feels as though a massive bandage has been ripped off of my skin. It isn’t exactly an ideal circumstance, but if nothing else, I will at least have a surplus of test subjects for investigating the nature of Nicol’s condition in the future. _

  
  
  


_ On the subject of his condition, it doesn’t appear to have worsened in the past month or so. What ‘worsened’ refers to in his case would be an exacerbation of its effects and a loosening of the rules that I assume govern it. As neither of these things have come to pass, I can only assume that his recovery has dragged the condition itself into an equilibrium of sorts. Make no mistake: I am not so optimistic as to believe that the remainder of his stay here will be without incident—bluntly, any medical professional that did would be a fool. Be that as it may, I am perfectly willing to accept stagnation such as this where I find it. _

_ I have been particularly grateful for the ‘quiet’ regarding his condition in recent weeks. Thanks to its persistence, I’ve had a surplus of time to observe Nicol’s actual behavior and how his abilities have shaped it. _

  
  


_ Like any other growing child, he has adapted to his living circumstance without much issue. In the past, it sometimes seemed that he was either oblivious or uninterested in the scale of his abilities. Recently, I have seen him utilize them on a whim. After almost a year of doing so unconsciously and with occasional fits of reluctance, he now approaches the situations that they create as ‘givens’. He recognizes that he won’t be blamed for his actions, and as such takes them as far as he deems to be reasonable relative to the time and place he finds himself within. _

  
  


_ In many ways, I feel that this is the best result that he could have achieved. For a child, the freedom to act without consequence is no different from an endorsement of juvenile hedonism. Though I can’t define any of the things Nicol does as appropriate, his willingness to show even the slightest amount of discretion whilst also moderating his behavior is very reassuring to me. Should the day of his discharge actually arrive, I will at least be able to sign off on his leaving the facility with some vague hope that the world at large will not disintegrate in the wake of his whims. _

  
  


_ Presently, I am still the only person within this facility that seems to have any concrete knowledge about how different he really is. Assuming responsibility for him as I do might be an overstep of my duties as a doctor, but if I do not, I fear that he will miss out on being able to live some bizarre semblance of a normal life. _

  
  


_ Moving back to the subject of his behavior, the past month has seen much of it take on a strangely altruistic tone (his personal interests aside). What I mean by this is difficult to explain in writing, but I feel that it can be likened to the manner in which children learn problem solving. Whenever a conflict arises, Nicol has gone out of his way to use his abilities to resolve it--even when doing so does not earn him anything in return. _

  
  


_ Initially, I presumed him to be acting in his best interest in a more roundabout way. However, my more recent findings have suggested this to be only a portion of the cause. _

  
  


_ I believe the other portion concerns the Serin Facility itself. As far as I can tell, Nicol has come to regard the problems that afflict this place as problems of his own. He does not understand all of them, but he is very aware of his ability’s propensity to bend conclusions in his favor. Since his time ‘contributing’ to the union discussions that occurred weeks prior, he has willingly injected himself into similar disputes as he hears of them. _

  
  


_ The majority of these disputes are insignificant in nature, but there occurred one in particular that led me to make this conclusion in the first place. _

_   
_ _ In the wake of the labor dispute between the nurses and the facility administration, a public inquiry as to how the Serin Facility uses the funding it receives from the state was launched. Apparently, the government officials representing the regions most immediate to St. Ulster’s endured pressure from their constituents for a clearer picture of how the tax dollars taken from them were applied to the facility’s upkeep.  _

  
  


_ Why this became a talking point amongst the general public is beyond me. I am personally of the opinion that this inquiry was launched to unearth validation for the curtailment and ‘reapplication’ of some of the facility’s funding, but I would sooner hang up my coat as a medical practitioner than claim to be informed about the political climate surrounding this place. _

  
  


_ This aside, the exact motivation for the inquiry is now irrelevant. As a direct consequence of Nicol’s involvement, the young women charged with its execution have penned a report advocating for an increase in funding to be submitted to the governor.  _

  
  


_ My mentioning their gender is meant to allude to what transpired without stating it directly. For those of you who have been reading through my writings in order, this should be sufficient for you to deduce what occurred on your own. _

_   
_ _ For those of you who have read to this point in contentment and interest, I applaud you. For those who have done whilst dogged by disgust, consider this: _

  
  


_ No matter the nature of Nicol’s methods, his presence within the Serin Facility has done more in a year than its management has in the past decade of its existence. _

_ - _

  
  


**SERIN FACILITY CAFETERIA— 2:30PM**

Tension, like a great many other things conveyed through human behavior, can be felt by those exposed to it both directly and indirectly. While this is especially true for individuals concerned with said tension’s source, it remains relevant for those peripheral to it as well—albeit to a lesser extent.

Occasionally, a tightness of air surrounding the tension’s source alerts those nearby to its presence. Breathing through it is no less effective than breathing elsewhere, but the difficulty associated with doing so typically leads those made aware of it to depart in avoidance of it. Other times, a deafening silence is associated with it. Whereas the world around this source might contain any number of sounds with any number of causes, the airspace surrounding this tension is completely and utterly silent. 

Inside the Serin Facility cafeteria, the table shared between Morgan Stellar, Vanessa Skylar, and the investigators they had escorted throughout the facility exuded both of these things. So palpable in extent that the cafeteria-goers surrounding this table unconsciously distanced themselves from it, the tension brewed between the nurses and their counterparts seemed liable to erupt into a fiery altercation provided a single spark was thrown into their midst.

Evident a possibility as this appeared to be, neither of the women at the table backed it with their behavior. Whereas Morgan and Vanessa forced themselves to present their most congenial smiles (Morgan’s rendered crooked by nervousness and sweat whilst Vanessa’s sat warped by frustration), the investigators ahead of them seemed far too detached from their circumstance to emote at all. 

Ahead of Morgan, a shorter, bespectacled young woman owning a dense head of neatly-arranged black hair and an E-Cup bust comparable to her nurse counterpart sat with her line of sight directed down at a tablet set flat across the table. Much more youthful-seeming than the grey pencil skirt and dark cardigan adorning her frame implied, the level of concentration that she displayed balanced the girlishness in her face with a staunch, business-like demeanor. 

To her right, a much taller woman owning a latte-colored complexion and fatter, H-cup breasts sat with a smirk plastered across her face. Legs crossed with feminine pride and arms set to accentuate the struggles her cream-colored formal blouse faced in encapsulating her breasts, her presence contaminated the air with a felt superiority liable to grate on those that it was directed towards.

Since seating themselves, neither the investigators nor their escorts uttered a word. Charged with the task of escorting two vital VIPs throughout the facility and detailing its functionality according to hurriedly memorized bullet points, the nurses adopted silence so as to avoid speaking out of turn. Initially out of respect for the occasion and later as a result of their intense dislike of the women sent to assess the facility, speaking when spoken to (or when their circumstance called for it) seemed to them as their safest route through proceedings.

The investigators were simply indifferent. Tasked with an unbiased assessment of the Serin Facility and the creation of validation for its downsizing, the pair abandoned all attempts at ‘friendliness’ in the presence of their escorts. Granted the information required to support their purpose throughout the first half of their tour, ‘making nice’ throughout the afternoon break no longer served a purpose.

For a time, the pairs stuck to their positions without visible interest in moving away from them. Eventually, though, an utterance from the bespectacled young woman served as the spark required to accelerate proceedings towards implosion.

Turning her features up from her tablet, she addressed her escorts in a tone devoid of emotion.

“Well, thank you both. After going over our findings thus far, I do not think Fi and I will be staying for the second half of the tour.” she began, softly. “Were either of you educated on the subject, I’m sure you’d agree that the wastefulness of this facility is gross. The care that it provides is certainly impressive, but the same care could be provided at a much lower price point. Funding is being burnt unnecessarily, so I would look into instating a new financial director when the facility’s funding is recalculated.”

“Speaking of which, couldn’t you do the job, Fi?”

Addressed, the latte-skinned woman rolled her shoulders and drew a hand across the fringe of silver-white hair neatly arced across her forehead. Ambivalence conveyed, she afterwards addressed the nurses in a tone of voice both cool and pragmatic.

“If I absolutely had to, yes. I’m not about to volunteer, though” she replied, flatly. “I can’t think of many people that would be willing to clean up this mess, either. You guys might be in serious trouble by the end of this, but being nurses, there really isn’t much you can do about it. In the end, it’s up to people like Bella to find these problems, and people like me to fix them.”

“We’ll make sure your superiors hear that you did a good job though, alright?”

Slighted both by failure and the behavior of their guests, continued silence lost its lustre for the nurses. Reserved by nature, the nervousness on Morgan’s face became an incredulous pout seconds away from eruption into a good-natured tirade. 

Vanessa, however, moved directly from a frustrated gritting of her teeth to a bark whose volume obscured even the perpetual swaying of the double doors leading into the cafeteria.

“OH! AND I SUPPOSE WE SHOULD BE HAPPY THAT YOU’RE PUTTING IN A GOOD WORD FOR US?!” shouting near her peak volume, Vanessa surged upright from her seated position whilst her lengthy black-hair swayed in response to her surge. “We’re not stupid; we know what you’re doing is going to hurt the facility in the long run!” 

“The fact that we’re powerless in this doesn’t give you the right to treat us like children, either. Morgan is still new at this job, but by the look of it, Ms.Bella here can’t have started more than a few months ago--unless the government has suddenly started hiring teenagers for work like this.” she continued.

Abruptly, it became Bella’s turn for discontentment. Drawn to her feet at the table by Vanessa’s comment, a juvenile balling of both of her fists whilst her arms remained at her sides conveyed a burning desire to produce some form of retort.

Before she could, Morgan rose to her feet in hopes of keeping proceedings from deteriorating further.

“N-Now, I don’t really disagree with Vanessa, b-but I do understand that you two are just doing your jobs.” she stammered. “We may just be nurses, but we’re not helpless. I realize you already have a verdict in mind, b-but maybe we ought to continue with the second half of the tour anyway? Vanessa and I can’t very well state that we were thorough in escorting you if we cut things short here.”

“And who knows? Maybe you’ll find something that will allow you to write something a little bit more favorable to the facility?”

Ever the optimist, Morgan’s outburst did not account for the anger boiling within the stomach of the shortest individual at the table. As soon as she (Morgan) finished speaking, Bella interjected only slightly less angrily than she had intended to prior.

“At what point did either of us say that we had any intention of ruling in your favor? Our job is to take back our assessments as we see them. If you’re going to insult us, why should we bother going through another hour of walking when we already have enough information for a decision?” she grumbled, angrily.

“You agree, don’t you, Fi? Continuing with all of this is just pointless.”

With this utterance, all signs pointed towards Bella’s utterance drawing a similar form of indignation from her partner. Invested in such signage for the preceding few minutes, Morgan, Vanessa, and Bella herself turned their attention towards her in anticipation of the argument’s continuation.

What they actually found at her seat was a scene that ought to have resulted in a very different form of argument. Standing upright with both of his feet planted atop the top of Fi’s thighs was a familiar child engaged in a familiar activity. Lips compressed deeply against Fi’s and eyes closed in what appeared to be a great deal of contentment, his presence kissing the older woman denied her the ability to retort as she might’ve normally. Her eyes remained bent towards her peers at the table, but this aside, her ‘focus’ seemed utterly consumed by the boy’s presence. This evident in the hands she had wrapped around his waist and her aggressive reciprocation of his kiss, the sight of her suggested her being of the opinion that her behavior was ‘correct’ relative to the situation that she was performing in.

Her peers at the table behaved similarly. Rather than speaking out at the fact that she was intimately kissing with an inappropriately-young child, all three women regarded her silence as a matter of course and continued their discourse as though she had produced some form of response.

Amongst them, the woman most acceptant of Fi’s behavior was the same one that had addressed her to begin with.

“Well, obviously Fi can’t speak while kissing, but you understand my point. She’ll provide her own opinion once she’s finished drinking that little boy’s saliva, but it doesn’t really matter. All of this is a waste of time regardless!” Bella snapped.

  
Equally indifferent towards the boy’s appearance but far more knowledgeable as to why it had occurred, Vanessa produced a rejoinder that contained information that the investigators would soon deem to be extremely valuable.

“That ‘little boy’ has a name. It’s Nicol; he’s one of the children that this facility benefits most! If you go through with submitting that report, it’s kids like him that you’re going to be hurting!” she spat.

“How do you know that, exactly? Last I checked, I haven’t shared the details about what I’ve composed with anyone but Fi!” retorted Bella.

“I don’t need to know the details to understand that they’re going to make things worse. If they were for the better, you two wouldn’t be such absolute  **bitches!** ”

“What was that!?”

“You heard me!”

One outburst at a time, the discussion at the table was pushed further and further towards a two person shouting match moderated by a third wheel without the required backbone to influence its direction. Purposeless in spite of the energy invested into it, its continuation served only to consume time that might’ve been applied to something productive.

Adjacent to it, Nicol _____ inadvertently applied himself to one such ‘productive’ activity. Having progressed to the cafeteria with the intention of checking in on two of his favorite nurses in the midst of the ‘important work’ that had wracked them with anxiety throughout the weeks leading up to the event, the sight of two women he was not yet familiar with struck him as an opportunity. When Vanessa and Morgan began arguing with these women, every fibre of his tiny being demanded that he impose himself such that the two of them would not be shouted at in return.

In the moment, feeding his budding desire to taste the interior of the taller woman’s mouth was the best effort that he could come up with. Opting to leave the ‘heavy lifting’ of the effort to his presence, he used the upturn in animosity amongst the four to climb atop her lap, stand upright, and happily mush his lips against her own.

Per usual, the results reaped from his doing so were largely positive. Robbed of a fraction of her temper by the sensation of slender lips against her mouth and the slither of a boyish tongue into its interior, Fi accepted the happening as something ‘to be expected’ within the Serin Facility. Though she did not know why a little boy clad in only a hospital gown had climbed atop her lap—much less why he had begun swirling his tongue around the interior of her mouth—her mind regarded these things as undeserving of a significant reaction. Similarly, reciprocating Nicol’s kiss as her drooling sex dictated and feeding her newfound desire to taste the back of his throat struck her as equally ‘mundane’ activities. In the same way that conversation required speech, returning any and all attention she received from the boy twofold was to her the ‘normal’ thing to do.

As such, she acted normally. After several minutes of entertaining Nicol’s mild lashing of her tongue and the aggressive suckling he applied to her lips, she invested herself in kind. Leaning into his kiss, she used the disparity between their sizes to depress her lips against his with more lust than he was capable of responding to. As she did so, she pressed her tongue outwards through a gluey invasion of his moist oral cavity that ended almost as quickly as it started. Shortly after exerting herself, the balmy warmth of his throat blunted her tongue’s ingress and forced its meat into a ‘flattened’ spread across the twitching passageway’s face.

Without any more (or less) lust than was warranted, Fi reacted to her organ’s stoppage with a furious swirling of its mass against the beginnings of Nicol’s throat. Forbidden from invading the tube by his adorable attempts at swirling his tongue around the mass of her own, she settled for a slow, left-right scrubbing of her compressed tongue flesh against the face of his throat. If not as invasively as her syrup-drenched cunt would have preferred, these scrubbing strokes kept her tastebuds in perpetual contact with the mucus-smeared flesh at the back of his throat whilst at the same time allowing for most all of the saliva produced within her mouth to ooze down into his own. Immediately ‘painted’ across the back of his throat as a sweetly-flavored lubricant, this outflow in turn facilitated a progressive increase in the stimulation offered by each stroke and the speed at which they were produced.

In return for all of the ‘normalcy’ that she produced, Fi received yet more attention from Nicol. Very well accustomed to the sensation of an adult tongue grinding against his throat, Fi’s intensification of their kiss prompted him to produce exertions of his own. Amidst the hopeless fluttering of his tongue against her own, he occasionally swallowed down thick fractions of the saliva that Fi drained into his mouth. Through this, he subjected a fraction of her tongue’s length to a tighter compression against his throat, and even tempted its flesh towards an outright invasion of his digestive tract’s interior.

Fortunately, gulping was not the extent of his action. Equally ‘well accustomed’ to how aggressive women could become if granted the opportunity, his initiation of these drainage attempts was supplemented by an inward compression of his crotch and a feverish flicking of his hips. Specifically, after tightly smothering his gown-gloved erection up against the plush fat of Fi’s cleavage face, he began pumping his crotch inwards and outwards along a ‘(‘-shaped upward crescent. 

Initially, the speed and depth of the thrusts that he produced suggested his swallowing against Fi’s tongue as the ‘more effective’ of his teasing activities. With both the fabric of his gown and a portion of Fi’s blouse face separating his cock from direct contact with her wobbling pillows, the stimulation that he reaped for his erection was mitigated to an extent that made it more frustrating than satisfying. As well, the force that he applied as backing for these thrusts was too mild to offset this fact. Despite his standing position setting his cock at a perfect position for an upward angled depression into the sticky warmth of her exposed cleavage, the weight of his stabs served only to grind his covered erection against it.

Soon enough, though, a method to the apparent madness of his ministrations was presented by Nicol himself.

Evidently, a satisfying rut of Fi’s sandwiched breast flesh was not what he sought from his motions. Several strokes into the beginnings of his chain, he abandoned the motions entirely and outstretched his right hand towards Fi’s left.

Just short of a full extension, his palm found Bella’s right forearm. Levelled perfectly by the diminutive woman’s earlier rise to her feet, he folded his palm around a fraction of the limb section’s width and subsequently dragged it from her side down to another logistically-perfect position adjacent to his crotch.

This done, he abandoned his pretence entirely. Peeling his crotch backwards out of contact with Fi’s breasts, he effortlessly manipulated Bella’s hand underneath the fringe of his gown and straight into contact with the swollen spire of erect cockflesh that tented it.

What followed maintained the standards dominating the event. Rather than producing a girlish squeak in response to the sweaty, pulsing pole of flesh that her fingers were brushed against, Bella snapped her palm into an expert encapsulation of Nicol’s drooling glans and several of the precum-smeared phallus-inches beneath it. Then, without slanting her line of sight away from the taller woman she was arguing with, she began tweaking her perfectly-shaped palmsleeve up and down the stretch of inches she had trapped with just enough pressure to milk healthy blurts of precum out of Nicol’s glans per stroke.

To her, doing so was normal. Normal enough for her not to direct her full attention towards it, and coincidentally, enough so to inject only the slightest hint of aroused pink into her otherwise pale facial features.

“…Look, all of that makes sense, but you’re not looking at any of this from my perspective. I don’t know why I have to repeat this, but my job is to find places where the predicted cost of an operating expense doesn’t match its actual cost.” responding to the latest inquiry thrown at her with another rendition of listless candor, Bella’s messily driving her palm up and down the leaking erection of a child failed to so much as dent her reasoning ability.

If anything, it sharpened it. Granted an outlet that she could funnel her frustrations into, improvements in her utterances’ tone and clarity were ‘bought’ at the cost of a progressive intensification of her handjob. 

Needless to say, these increases (and for that matter, the entirety of her handjob) were disregarded by her audience as well. From the vigorous pumping of Bella’s hand to the slovenly *SPLORT-SPLORT-SPLORT* that was strangled from the peak of Nicol’s erection per stroke, everything concerning her stroking metronome remained anecdotal in the face of her explanation…

But only for a time.

“Why a cost discrepancy exists is irrelevant. It’s the Serin Facility’s responsibility as an organization to use the funding it receives to its utmost effect. I am confident it can do so with far less money than it is receiving now—that’s all that matters.” Bella continued. “Now, if you don’t have anything else along those lines to throw at me, I think it’s time for Fi and I to take our leave.”

Whilst Bella’s words conveyed one set of feelings—these pertaining to her disinterest in further conversation and the brutal realities of public funding—the movements of her palm contained another set entirely. Throughout these utterances, the ferocity of her handjob spiked sharply enough to push repeated coos from Nicol’s throat into Fi’s, and at the same time intensify the sexual sloppiness her (Bella’s) flesh applied to his own.

Despite having next to no prior experience with pleasuring males with her hands, Bella had become an expert at managing Nicol’s cock within minutes. Initially shaping her metronome to cover only the foremost inches of his reddened erection, the prolonging of her ministrations had seen the span of inches squeezed into and out from the gooey embrace of her palmsleeve curtailed to the bare minimum required for a given depression to deliver his glans into the sleeve’s core. 

Innately and inexplicably, Bella knew for certain that this level of depth would be sufficient for Nicol’s pleasure. Here, a gentle contraction of her sleeve just potent enough to see his glans lightly compressed by her palm and fingers could provide a far more draining pleasure than could be applied from pressing his cock through her grasp to the point of breaching its peak. Subsequently, a prolonged application of this pressure throughout the tiny upward grinds that complemented these depressions would see whatever precum was welled within his urethra drawn out into a digit-warming splutter into her sleeve’s confines. Said lubrication could then be applied to her very next depression, and so on and so forth until the boy that she adored so was made to orgasm by her efforts.

Precisely when she had come to adore Nicol so was not a thought that she bothered entertaining. Upon arriving at the conclusion that intensifying her chain this way would provide him with pleasure, executing this became her focus. Driving the already-impressive pace of her strokes up to a blinding oscillation, she thought of nothing but the inevitable splatter of semen against her palm up to a point in time well after the juncture she ought’ve used to excuse herself.

As a consequence of this, both Morgan and Vanessa found footholds where they’d have otherwise been without recourse.

“W-Well, I didn’t want to mention this, but I guess there’s no choice anymore…” Morgan began. “Since you haven’t mentioned it so far and we haven’t shown you anything related to it, I assume you have no knowledge of the post-partum depression study carried out within the facility by Dr. Hector Ledh? The (results haven’t been made public, but I was told that access to it was unrestricted amongst relevant members of government.”

Now much more preoccupied with stroking Nicol’s cock than was appropriate, Bella shook her head at her very first opportunity. Really, though, Nicol’s presence would not have made a difference; even with 100% of her concentration, speaking on a topic she had no knowledge of was impossible.

At the first hint of her ignorance, Vanessa jumped into an arced approach around the cafeteria table towards Fi, and Morgan continued speaking with the beginnings of a smirk at the corner of her lips.

“I’ll take that as a no. I was given permission by Dr.Ledh to divulge the details to relevant parties, so if you don’t mind, I’ll fill you in briefly.” she continued. “The truth is, we have Nicol to thank for its success. Elie Seaside and Angelina Cruise were both high risk depression patients up until several months ago. Somehow, spending time with Nicol has motivated both of them into making progress towards a measurable recovery…”

“Or so their attending psychiatrists say.”

Stunned, Bella again fell back on silence. Her eyes told her that Morgan was not finished speaking, but the idea of a child measurably affecting something as nebulous as human psychology was, for some reason, extremely significant to her.

Before she could formulate a proper response to this, a second voice punished her for her reticence.

“In the longterm, one child isn’t going to make this place more valuable--especially considering Nicol might have to leave one day…” speaking out from a position just adjacent to Fi, Vanessa interjected whilst brandishing a grin of her own.

Incidentally, her closeness to Nicol’s standing position facilitated the boy reaching up with his left hand to begin groping her chest as well. Adept even whilst preoccupied, his palm’s contact with the face of her cleavage proved the extent of the contact he required to unbutton the seals of her uniform and drag the plush meat of her breasts out into the open air.

“That said, the study is something you’d only be able to find in this facility. Nicol will be here for some time yet, so who is to say that some other breakthrough won’t be found?” she continued, eyes completely uninterested in Nicol’s kneading of her breastflesh. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if the professionals that work here suddenly lost the freedom to work as they please? At the end of the day, everything that they do just makes the medical facilities of this state more reputable, doesn’t it?”

This time, the words fed into Bella’s ear reaped action before thought. Further softened by the presence of the boy’s whose throbbing cock she was milking, she slowed the pace of her palm’s stroking so as to apply additional pressure against the writhing organ per pump. 

Fundamentally, this change was a product of her frame understanding that the enamoured youth was nearing his limit. Outwardly, however, a loosening of her flat facial features suggested the shift to be a consequence of a sudden improvement in her perception of the youth. 

Amongst the women surrounding her, the exact reason for her shift was unimportant. In the midst of attempting a desperate reversal, Morgan and Vanessa were simply content to see that they were making progress.

Differently, Fi was simply happy to have an excuse to address her coworker. Without any of the sluggishness or apprehension thought inherent to unhooking one’s tongue from the throat of a virtual toddler, she popped her lips from off of Nicol’s face and spoke out whilst a flourish of milky saliva addled her speech.

“…I haf’h ‘uh ‘admit, sh’ new hinfomashion…” beginning wetly, she momentarily sealed her lips and swallowed several times to clear her tongue and oral cavity of excess spittle. “M-Maybe it’s worth including in the report? One kid isn’t going to change what this place is, but as long as he’s here, there’s probably an angle we can play that the higher ups would want to hear.”

“T-That’s just my opinion. Did you have something else in—MMPPH ♥♥ ”

If stable in her address, Fi neglected the fact that a boy on the verge of an orgasm was directly ahead of her. Before she could finish speaking, Nicol again smothered his lips against her own, and even stabbed his crotch inward in search of more pleasure from Bella’s palm.

For all intents and purposes, these actions made Bella’s choice for her. Wracked with a desire to see Nicol release, she briefly pushed her stroking back up to its earlier pace. Maintaining her earlier increases in pressure throughout, she applied these qualities at their utmost until a strained squeak surged from out of Nicol’s throat.

Within seconds, what she sought was provided to her alongside a flurry of motion from the women around her. Whilst Vanessa pressed herself closer to Nicol to make his cathartic squeezing of her breasts more simplistic, Fi unlocked her embrace of the boy’s waist in a hurried attempt at peeling up the front of his hospital gown with her right hand. Then, timed to the completion of both of these activities, a final thrust from Nicol preceded a massive burst of semen from the tip of his length straight into the core of the palm-sleeve gloving its flesh.

The first strand of sludge he released outmatched the confines of her palm in both scale and quality. Owning a jellied, blubber-like texture unmistakable as a heavily virile and nutrient riddled semen freshly produced by an over productive pair of little-boy-testicles, the pudgy mire-strand completely consumed the orifice’s volume before it completed its slither from Nicol’s length. Straight behind it, a second strand composed of the same squirming cells displaced the contents of Bella’s grasp with a force sufficient to send heavy blurts of the substance rising through the crease of her fingers and out from the top portion of the sleeve. These without the ‘projectile’ pressure of the semen strands that induced them, their contents drained mountainous wads of balmy slime out onto Fi’s exposed bust in the form of several dense mudslides of semen across Bella’s fingers.

Though painfully aware of the fact that her ‘hole’ was not large enough to contain Nicol’s release, the blubbering of semen through Bella’s fingers was not so disquieting an experience as to draw her off course. Really, the drenching of her hand with the substance served to re-energize her. With it came a painstaking resumption of her stroking metronome—this time at a much slower pace—and a downward angling of her wrist that allowed for the excess semen fed through her grasp to enjoy a more ‘varied’ descent down into contact with Fi’s bust. Specifically, her movements allowed for nearly the entire patch of cleavage exposed by her blouse to be coated with a healthily-layered assortment of semen smears.

All throughout her stroking, Bella’s thoughts remained largely split between the lust throbbing within her uterus and the relief that washed over her the moment Nicol began groaning in orgasm. The two sensations were not quite balanced—not if the syrup-muddied state of her panties were taken into the equation—but their mixture still sufficed as motivation for her to continue her pumping until Nicol’s final glob of semen was messily squeezed from the tip of his cock by her palm.

On completion of the task, she found herself unable to think productively at all. Though only for a moment, her mind refused to entertain anything related to the wriggling warmth that had consumed her palm and the intoxicating stench of semen that wafted into her nose from her right.

When next she found it within herself to think naturally, she released the tip of Nicol’s cock and spoke.

“W-Well, when you put it that way…” thin and flimsy relative to her utterances prior to Nicol’s release, the beginnings of her address failed to convey any of her earlier rigidity. “M-Maybe we can go have a look at the rest of the facility. I-It’d look bad on Fi and I if we missed something that someone else found later, I suppose…”

“I’d prefer it if Nicol accompanied us, though. T-This won’t be an issue, will it?”

Made to gaze at the beginnings of a future defined by success and not failure, Morgan and Vanessa nodded in consent to Bella’s request directly as it was placed. Whatever the price Bella named, paying would see a portion of Nicol’s future at the Serin Facility secured…

A simple exchange for a prize they had sought with all their might to obtain.

  
  
  


-

**SERIN FACILITY— END OF YEAR**

Following in the wake of the investigation launched to detail the usage of the public funding provided to the Serin Facility came a conclusion that neither the government at large nor the facility itself were adequately prepared to manage. Citing the report penned by the senior investigators who carried out the investigation, the governor of Linn state proposed a 30% increase in the funding allocated to the facility pending adjustments for inflation throughout the coming year. 

Then, the rationale provided by the governor’s office was one rooted in pride and practicality. Pacifying the people of the state with an argument detailing the successful experiments carried out within the facility whilst assuaging his political rivals by presenting the facility as a world-renowned medical site vital for the state’s prestige, his advocation for the facility and the hospital surrounding it presented a fervor that in turn suggested personal investment in its success.

No such investment was unearthed in the weeks following his decision. As the year waned and public attentions shifted towards the holidays, the mild uproar responsible for instigating the investigation itself petered out into a discontented acceptance of the inevitable. The Serin Facility’s increase in funding was set to commence following its next annual top up, and the report concerning its inner workings was quietly sequestered within a place that only highly positioned individuals within the state government could reach. By the beginning of the new year, the majority of the men and women concerned with the event were left to wonder whether or not the investigation had taken place at all.

Contrary to the implications of such a tidy conclusion, the true nature of the governor’s motivation was not entirely self-serving. Assessed fairly, those privy to it—namely Bella Meitzer and Fi Helias—concluded that its content served the greater good more so than it did him. The title of ‘individual most likely to benefit from the general public’s benefit’ remained firmly within his grasp, but given his position as governor, one could not reasonably expect otherwise.

To the investigators responsible for validating this conclusion, the specifics of the matter did not matter much. Following Fi’s appointment as the facility’s new financial director and Bella’s affixation to regular reviews of the facility’s 30% funding increase in years to come, both women were happy to accept the conclusion as it was.

As things stood, the two of them would enjoy several additional opportunities to visit Nicol within the facility and ensure that the quality of his care did not slip. For them, this was far more important than anything actually concerned with their ‘jobs’.

If not with the same level of contentment, the administrative staff of the Serin Facility embraced the judgement passed down to them as openly as their circumstance allowed. Having prepared for a marked decrease in funding right from the investigation’s initiation, the allotment of further funding left the facility’s administration to scramble in search of worthwhile purposes for it. Without such purposes, the facility was likely to remain at risk of further cuts in the future, or worse still, another ‘sudden inquiry’ by the government into their practices.

In hopes of avoiding this, no stone within its operation was unturned. Minor improvements in the facility’s equipment were made across the board, and another set of annual training programs were ordered for staff and volunteers for the coming year. Rehabilitative activities for patients at different stages of adolescence were placed into pre-production, and orders for the latest medications for them were made in public.

These aside, the largest investments of capital made by the administration were devoted to the research endeavors of the facility’s leading practitioners and researchers. Beginning with Hector Ledh, means were set out for them to approach breakthroughs similar to what he had managed in his study with Nicol _____. No significant expectations were set (as the primary aim of their receiving this money was to get rid of it), but the administration’s approach towards their efforts remained as in-depth and optimistic as would have been the case if the situation were more pressurized.

Far less surprised by this turn of events than his peers, the ‘research study’ suggested by Dr. Ledh called for an immediate procurement of 2 highschool-aged young women, and a quiet increase in the number of checkups he performed on Nicol _____ throughout a given day. According to the details he provided for the study itself, both of these things were related components for the development of a mental health program for adolescents.

When asked about the nature of this program and what it might achieve, his answer pertained to an increase in the overall contentment felt by young women throughout their time as inpatients within the facility. 

Likely as a result of his previous successes, no further inquiry as to his intent was made than this. Left to his own devices with both funding and resources, the facility proved all too happy to watch and wait for whatever results his work produced.

Even if, for example, these results proved to be the sort that required ‘adjustment’ before public presentation…

-

  
  
  


**SERIN FACILITY—PHYSICAL REHABILITATION CENTER**

The sight of two shapely adult women clad only in the regulation sports-bra and panties provided to the inpatients of St.Ulster’s striding through the hallways of a pediatric rehabilitation center was not one likely to be viewed as ‘normal’ by those exposed to the sight. 

The sight of such woman as accompanied by a pair of shorter, younger-seeming women owning similarly impressive endowments relative to their size was much less eye-catching. Within a rehabilitation center geared for adolescents, the pairings themselves could be explained away as a pair of instructors escorting a pair of patients to the site of their treatment sessions. As well, any differences in pairs’ demeanor —particularly in a case wherein the older women brandished smiles of excitement whilst their younger counterparts appeared tense—could be reduced to the anxiety felt by young adults whilst in the presence of older professionals.

It was with the understanding of these things that Hector Ledh petitioned Elie Seaside and Angelina Cruise to escort the Serin Facility’s latest guests to the location of the medical study they were to participate within. Plucked from a nearby high school on the merits of their physical development and the feedback received from several covert mental health evaluations, the two of them represented his definition of ‘superlatively healthy’ young women whilst at the same time seeming as though they could have been drawn from any given high school at any given time.

By pairing these young women up with two older, recovering depression patients, Hector hoped to achieve a degree of balance for the study he had planned. Of course, had he bothered to look into precisely how ‘even’ Elie and Angelina had become in recent weeks, the odds of their being selected for the task would have been much slimmer.

Presently, no matter the angle one viewed these women from, both their figures and demeanors were captured within the definition of ‘superlative health’ as well.

Happily ignorant to the machinations of the man who had selected them, Angelina and Elie led their charges through the facility until the number of activity studios they passed by totaled three. At the fourth, both women stopped directly ahead of its door prior to taking up different tasks for themselves. Whilst Elie pushed and held the left side of the studio’s double-door open, Angelina turned to address the nervous teenagers that had accompanied them.

After a brief pruning of the silver white hair atop her head with an index finger, she spoke out in a manner befitting the matronly smile she had worn up until this point.

“Alright, we’re here. You two can relax now.” she started, calmly. “There really isn’t anything more to this than I explained back in the lobby. Once you meet the person we’ll be working with, everything else will sort of take care of itself.”

“Elie and I will be using our participation to demonstrate what you should aim for, but the specifics really aren’t very important. What does matter is making sure that you enjoy yourselves, and that you end up being able to explain why or why not this was the case later on. As long as you can do that for us, Dr. Ledh’s study will probably be a success.”

Captivated by Angelina’s clarity, both teens nodded in sequence with a much firmer conviction. Neither one was any more confident about what laid in wait for them within the studio, but so long as Angelina remained present, the increased odds of their ‘managing’ validated an approach with their very best effort.

Noting the improvements in their moods, Angelina turned back towards the doors behind the trio to begin leading the way through it.

Much to her surprise—and yet somehow not at all—the left side of the door was no longer being held open by Elie. Rendered both suspicious and flustered by the sight, she surged through the remainder of her approach and pressed her way through the double-doors with outstretched hands in search of an explanation.

Awaiting her inside the studio was what she sought as presented in a form that she’d have rather not entertained. Bent knees depressed into the smooth hardwood flooring of the studio and parted to either side of Nicol’s waist, a floor-set Elie lay in the midst of dumping the weight of her partly-panty-covered rear up and down against his crotch. Caught in the midst of hungrily plunging his erection into and out from her drooling folds whilst cradling his flattened torso at the neck, the entrance of three individuals into the studio no longer qualified as a distractor to her. Barely aware of their presences to begin with, the seconds following their entry saw her continue blending the meat of her cunt with his comparatively-modest erection whilst a mild ‘c:’-shaped smile sat across her lips.

More so exasperated by Elie’s behavior than disgusted by it, the sight of her possessively milking Nicol’s shaft with her folds prompted Angelina to turn back and address the young women behind her. 

Try as she might to remain even tempered throughout her turn, her doing so coincided with the motherly warmth on her face being replaced by a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.

“W-Well, as I’m sure you two can see, Elie has gotten started ahead of us. It isn’t quite the start I had hoped for us—I’m sorry about that.” speaking calmly, the lost warmth in her facial expression was offset by the persistence of her earlier pattern of speech. “I think we can still make the best of it, though. Linear, you should go and introduce yourself to Nicol. He may be a little occupied with Elie, but I doubt it will be enough for him not to be interested in you.”

“While you’re doing that, Yunie and I will get started on something else. That way, everyone is kept busy—sound good?”

Largely without recourse, the two teens followed through with Angelina’s suggestion whilst dogged by differencing degrees of apprehension.

Despite her not seeing anything wrong with Elie’s ‘time-wasting’ atop Nicol’s frame, Linear Stalt’s progression towards the floored pair was defined by its stilted gait and the spread of an anxious sweat across the bright white flesh of her limbs. For each step she took, the rear-length dull blonde hair draped atop her skull bobbed in time with her gait, and the finger-length sheet of bangs that hung across her forehead trembled in accordance with her jitteriness. 

Succinctly, she did not wish to do wrong. Accustomed to a degree of proficiency in all of the things that she pursued, the ‘unknown’ presented by the study she had been selected for had rendered her far more uncomfortable than she needed to be. 

Upon arrival knelt adjacent to Nicol’s skull, the plush, D-Cup cleavage that fattened the smoke-grey fabric of her sports bra was darkened at its rim with sweat, and the once colorless flesh of her cheeks had acquired an adorable cherry redness. Both ‘features’ squarely evident if one were to look up at her frame from the floor, Linear nevertheless pushed her torso outwards towards a hover above the back of Elie’s skull in hopes of catching sight of Nicol’s face.

At the same moment that her line of sight caught a glimpse of one of the boy’s irises, the assurance that Angelina had provided her was validated in full. In this instant, Nicol’s unused left arm snapped up from his side and delivered his hand into a perfect ‘pocketing’ between her legs. Succinct and invasive, he curled his wrist to present the open face of his palm directly ahead of her crotch, then masterfully peeled the crotch section of her panties out of contact with the pert mound of cuntflesh beneath it.

No sooner was it exposed did he stab his hand upwards to gore his middle and ring fingers straight up into the nubile warmth of her folds. Beyond this point, the selfish ferocity of his ministrations funnelled pleasure up the blonde’s spine at such a painstaking pace that the experience became tantamount to an orgasmic blur for her.

Precisely as Angelina had indicated, Nicol was not so ‘busy’ being fucked by Elie to ignore the fact that two young women he had never met had entered the studio alongside Angelina. 

More so than either of the adult women, these older girls were the ‘focus’ described to him by his doctor when first their meeting was described to him. No matter how the event unfolded, making a positive impression on them was of the utmost importance—or so he had been told. 

Thus, he endured. Initially, Elie’ swallowing his cock into the congested warmth of her cunt and pinning his frame to the floor tempted him to follow along with proceedings until he dozed off. Well before he could acclimate himself to the sensation, the repeated flopping of warm assfat against his crotch and thighs as coupled with the elevation and descent of a squirming orifice starved for his seed along the arousal-fattened bloat of his cock began advocating for the very same thing in a much more aggressive manner. Supplemented by a speed of motion and a length of stroke that kept his shaft plugged into the warmth of her folds almost perpetually and an embrace from Elie that appealed to his most significant dependencies, the conditions that consumed him quickly became ripe for slipping off into another sex-drunk stupor until he found himself returned to his bed.

It was upon recognizing this that Linear’s face fell into his line of sight. Partly obscured by Elie’s torso, the sight of her flushed, girlish features reminded him of the amount of time that had passed since he had interacted with a girl that was not vastly older than he was. Captivated by the difference between her and the nurses he had come to adore, his first instinct was to treat her to the same ‘physical interest’ he had found to be effective with the nurses. Without knowledge of what his actions constituted or interested in the non-existent consequences associated with them, he excitedly rushed his way through an exposure of her lower lips and a knuckle depth depression of two of his digits into the taut warmth of her folds.

To his surprise, her innards were very different from all of the others he had been treated to thus far. Tight to the point of threatening his fingers’ alignment and stiflingly hot, her folds compression of his digits very nearly coaxed him into peeling his fingers out of her before doling out any affection towards her. Experienced enough with making use of his fingers to subjugate his youthful instincts, he instead responded to his digits’ oppression by bending both of them into hooks and digging the flesh of their tips up against the puffy canal lining directly above them.

Following the impression of their undersides against the ceiling of Linear’s cunt, he began manipulating them. Utilizing an outward hook of his wrist, he dragged both of his fingers from her folds’ grasp alongside a stuttered ejection of clear, honey-thick cuntsyrup. Long since familiar with what the lubricant could accomplish if applied correctly, he waited for the entirety of her discharge to glaze his fingers before ruthlessly stuffing both of them inside her back down to the knuckle. Throughout this depression, he maintained the digits’ hooked posturing, and made a conscious effort to impress their faces against the quivering ceiling of Linear’s womanhood whilst at the same time driving his joints down against the canal’s floor.

Once fully depressed, he started his cycle anew. Still dogged on all sides by the convulsions rippling through her folds, the completion of his first repetition motivated him to reproduce them senselessly until he achieved the result he desired. Being a child yet to feel the sting of abject failure, his mind framed this as the very best he could do given his situation.

Needless to say, this ‘framing’ was one produced under duress. No sooner did he begin goring his fingers through Linear’s folds in earnest did Elie’s bouncing along his shaft begin taxing its flesh beyond his capacity for stimulation. Fed far more bliss per pump of her crotch than his frame had expected to have to deal with, his expectations for stirring of Linear’s cunt were forcibly curtailed by a steady compaction of semen into the root of his crotch.

To make matters worse, every stubborn, juvenile thought he entertained in defiance of these limitations was denied staying power within his mind by the constant stream of coos and groans that spilled from Elie’s lips amidst her metronome.

“I-I’m sorry about this, sweetie; I-I know you’re s’posed to be helping out our guests today.” she chirped. “Mommy just can’t help herself when you’re all cute and defenceless  ♥ . I-It makes her want to have you spew out your cock juice inside her more than anything else~!”

“S-So—”

“D-Don’t—”

“Be—”

“S-Shy~! Drain out everything deep inside my cunt. Cake my insides with all of the goopy squirmy stuff you’ve saved up so that you can get back to being nice and helpful for Dr. Ledh, okay? B-By now, your cock is saying that you want that more th’n aaaaaaanything  ♥ .”

Ludicrously efficient at siphoning loads from her ‘son’ whilst addressing him, Elie purposely divided one of her final utterances to match her delivering three especially firm plunges of her crotch. Each accompanied by a deafening *PLORP!* composed of her drooling cunt’s impact with the root of Nicol’s cock and her buttocks’ clapping against his crotch, the noise’s volume smoothly conveyed the severity of the stimulation the impacts imposed whilst at the same time feeding further pleasure straight into their recipient’s ears. Per plunge, his sex-rawed shaft was squeezed into the beginnings of her cunt’s hottest, most slimly-congealed stretch of inches (these being those nearest her cervix), and was held there until the next slanted ascent she produced dragged them back through a pressurized retreat from her folds.

In adherence to the sweetly-toned request that Elie produced, Nicol’s frame abandoned further resistance beyond this point. Settling for a final upward skewering of his crotch that planted the bulbous flesh of his glans right back into its favorite pocket of flesh, the pleasure squeezed into his nerve endings throughout obliterated the seal at his crotch, and as a result facilitated a monstrous surge of gooey semen up towards the core of Elie’s womanhood. 

Having finally found release, the plumbing efforts of the boy’s fingers were momentarily halted as a mild fit of contractions rippled through his musculature.

Fairly stated, a moment’s respite was far less than his release deserved. Composed of a virile blubber heavy enough to bloat the urethra flesh that it travelled through, the first blurt of the substance squeezed out towards Elie’s core taxed Nicol’s mind with a satisfaction that very nearly knocked him unconscious. Made to grit his teeth beyond this point, similarly glutted threads of the substance repeatedly wriggled their way through his length up to compaction near the face of Elie’s cervix. No one of the threads less congested than the others, their continual eruption out into the same stretch of vaginal canal soon resulted in the formation of a clog that demanded moderation by the remaining inches of her folds. After an initial period of flesh-obscuring congestion, every additional thread of cockjuice that Nicol released resulted in another fraction of cuntflesh below his glans becoming host to a series of layered semen smears.

Like this, the end of the boy’s release was eventually commemorated by a sluggish backdraft of semen tumbling out of Elie’s crotch-compressed lower lips as a nastily-congealed blockage might when discharged from an unplugged pipe. Too consumed by satisfaction to speak, the shared silence between Nicol and Elie resulted in the sewage-like burbling that accompanied these ejections becoming too audible to ignore.

Tragically, those that these noises were meant for did not pay them much mind. 

Linear’s excuse was a toe-curling orgasm brought about by Nicol’s fingers writhing within her (relatively) virginal folds; an understandable circumstance given the depth her suitor had achieved earlier. 

Differently, Angelina and Yunie ignored the sloppy noises blatantly out of necessity.

Throughout the minutes leading up to their production (the noises), the two of them had stood engaged in a conversation concerning their eventual involvement with the intercourse taking place ahead of them.

True to her word, Angelina used her alone time with Yunie to create a plan of progression for the two of them. Following a brief overview of Nicol’s habits and preferences (these serving as an explanation for why sex was necessary to begin with), she suggested, and later insisted that Yunie be the next to milk Nicol’s cock after his first orgasm. Convinced of her pink-haired protege’s suitability for the task, she assuaged her concerns about the event by pantoming a sexual position for her to make use of whilst describing exactly what kind of sensations to expect from the act.

This done, she turned her attention towards readying them for action. Committed to her temporary status as an instructor, she set herself ahead of Yunie’s shapely (yet under-height) frame and requested that she ready herself to move at a moment’s notice.

Poised in wait for the exact moment that Nicol’s orgasm came to an end, the outflow of the sounds prompted a two-pronged surge from the differently-aged pair. Whilst Angelina lunged downward with both of her hands extended towards Elie’s hips, Yunie took up a preparative position squatted directly behind her.

Together, their approaches amounted to displacement and replacement. All-too-happy to drag Elie off of Nicol’s still erect cock, Angelina moved her fellow patient off of the sprawled-out youth’s frame, and with this opened up the way for Yunie to assume her own squat right above Nicol’s cock.

As it turned out, their coordination even had dialogue attached to it.

“Try it just like I showed you, Yunie! Remember, Nicol’s there to give you lots of help!” shouted Angie. “It’s just you and Linear now, so don’t let her show you up!”

Blindly confident in the words and instructions drilled into her head over the preceding few minutes, Yunie used Angelina’s words to push herself over the precipice she had teetered atop. Strangely undaunted by the fact that her drooling womanhood was hovering directly atop a cock and crotch utterly caked with a little boy’s semen, she plunged her crotch straight downward until her lower lips were pierced by the slender, gunk-slogged cudgel of cockflesh set out for her. 

Subsequently, she fell cross-eyed. The moment the meat of Nicol’s cock began spreading the underused depths of her folds, the difference between discussion and experience was conveyed to the psyche in the form of a gutting ripple of stimulation conducted from the core of her uterus up to the root of her brainstem.

Succinctly, the sensation differed from what Angelina had told her to expect. ‘An extremely pleasant warmth that you’ll be able to grind your hips against’ was not an apt description of it from her perspective, and the quivering splutter that assaulted her cunt supported this.

What she was enduring was different...

  
And it was all thanks to Nicol.   
  
  
  
“T-Thank you so much for helping us out today, Nicol  ♥ .” after righting the position of her eyes, the first words that left her lips were those soaked in desire and affection. “I dunno about Linear, but I’m gonna make sure to try my best while I’m here! Hopefully you enjoy it lots and lots  ♥♥ .”

Nicol did not even begin to try responding to Yunie’s claim. The moment his cock was smashed into the phallus-wringing warmth of her cunt—this coming well before his consciousness was allowed to ‘come down’ from his earlier orgasm—what hopes he maintained towards properly participating in the event that his doctor had devised were smashed alongside it.

No matter how otherworldly his abilities or virile his reproductive system, neither his psyche nor frame had developed past the restrictions of childhood. In the face of overstimulation, they were liable to fail—especially in cases wherein said ‘overstimulation’ went completely unmoderated.

Based on the pressurized suckling applied by Yunie’s folds and the hunger that glowed within her eyes, instincts written into Nicol’s frame informed him that moderation was no longer an option for her. Consequently, his ‘options’ regarding the event were likely to be limited as well. If he was to make it through the event at all, survival would need to be prioritized over performance.

Impressively, his idea of ‘survival’ did not include another fit of incoherent mewling. Suppressing his desire to speak out into a boyish groan, he replied to Yunie’s claim with his crotch. Before whatever bouncing metronome she had planned could begin in earnest, he bucked his hips upwards with enough force to send her tenuously-maintained torso tumbling forward into contact with his chest. Next, leveraging the distribution of her upper body’s weight across his tiny front (the majority of which was stored within the C-Cup softballs of breastflesh at her chest), he initiated his own thrusting chain in hopes of drawing her into adherence to it.

For a pattern initiated with only a moment’s notice, the chain itself proved an impressive representation of the sexual experience that he had accrued throughout his time as an inpatient. Set along a path shaped like an upward angled hook (i.e beginning from his crotch and scaling upward into hooked squeezes through Yunie’s lower lips), every possible corner that could be cut with the motion-set was cut and sharpened to the best of his ability. The inches of cockflesh that he unplugged from her cunt’s grasp were limited to a pair of slender inches, and the pace that he established kept the semen-coated exterior of his crotch in near constant contact with Yunie’s pudgy lower lips.

Within a vacuum, these ministrations could have satiated Yunie without dragging Nicol’s psyche out from the realm of the living.

Regrettably, this was not where his reality existed…

In his reality, Linear had not yet been satisfied by the fingers that he had stuffed inside her cunt.

“Jeez! D-Did you forget about me or something Nicol? Or is playing with Yunie just that much more fun for you?” Linear complained. “That’s no fair—we were getting to know each other first, weren’t we? You and I should finish first before you give her any more attention to Yunie!”

Incensed by the desperate effort that Nicol brandished towards her schoolmate, Linear made her best attempt at recapturing her tiny partner’s attentions without presenting herself as too much of a crybaby. A certain amount of juvenile displeasure was reasonable, but any more than this was likely to be off-putting (and as a result, ineffective) where Nicol was concerned.

Fervently as she wished to moderate her behavior, the seconds that followed her outburst suggested that further proactivity would be necessary from her. As neither Yunie nor Nicol had stirred at her outburst, she dipped her torso further downward to drive her skull into competition with Yunie’s. Quick to recognize the absence of traffic at Nicol’s mouth, she swiftly applied herself to the region before the position could be taken from her. Granted sufficient space for an ingress by Yunie’s near-cross-eyed smother of the left side of Nicol’s chest, she added her flesh to the feminine masses smothering the boy by driving her lips into another angled compression against his own.

On contact, the bliss that was funnelled from her lips down to her crotch mutated the peck she had planted into a shamelessly slovenly invasion of Nicol’s mouth. Inexplicably overcome with desires that ranged from gulping down Nicol’s saliva to smearing her taste into the interior of his mouth, she refused to spare him from even a fraction of their ardency. In pursuit of them, she depressed her tongue straight down into the beginnings of his throat, and soon afterwards began screwing its flesh clockwise through the confines of his oral cavity such that the drool welled within her mouth could be ‘cleanly’ drained into his own.

At no point prior or during these ministrations did Linear imagine that she’d be rewarded for them. Having been forced to take the initiative in her coupling with Nicol, sharing a slimy kiss with the boy whilst he drilled his cock up into one of her friends was to her a reasonable compromise forged within an unreasonable circumstance. 

So genuine was her contentment with this circumstance that it came as an extremely jarring surprise to her when the fingers buried within her folds resumed their wrist-backed excavation of her womanhood. Without warning or direct motivation, the thus-far-stagnant digits jumped straight back into a lively up-down ‘shiving’ of her pudgy inner walls accented by curvature and aggression.

At first, Linear perceived them to be a cleaner reproduction of ministrations she had already enjoyed. The shrill “ **MYUUUGH** **♥♥** ” that she cooed into Nicol’s mouth was intended as catharsis for the pleasure that assaulted her and the orgasm that would soon be fished from her folds—given her position, there was little else she could do to express herself. Soon, however, the ministrations proved to be something else entirely.

They were better. Despite maintaining the same knuckle-deep depth and vehement pacing, it soon became apparent that each syrup-glazed plunge of Nicol’s fingers was backed by a thoughtless, feral energy almost unthinkable for the tiny frame that was producing it. No matter how her folds quivered, squirmed, or even squirted against his digits, their pulverisation of her depths refused to be mitigated. Second by second, perfect reproductions of the joint-studded ingresses fed ludicrous amounts of stimulations into nerve endings she scarcely even touched.

And they were only becoming more potent. Mere seconds into the kissing ministrations she had planned to impose on Nicol, Linear soon found herself reduced to an impotent suckle against the boy’s lips that saw the majority of their shared saliva spilt from the corners of her lips. Utterly content with her position in spite of this, she embraced her blissful slobber against his face whilst the smoldering tightness within her cunt was forced closer and closer towards implosion.

In her contentment with the attention that she was receiving, Linear failed to recognize that Nicol’s efforts were only portions of a much larger shift in behavior. Precisely as the gutting of her cunt began anew, the thrusts that he drove up into Yunie’s folds enjoyed a second increase in pace. This bought from the satisfaction of Linear’s kiss, everything about the dual-sided event that the boy had been pressed into began feeding into itself such that his frame’s remaining stamina was burnt through much faster than it had been before.

Completely past the point of caring about his frame’s degeneration, Nicol rode through the draining of his frame until he had nothing left to give. Thrust, by gore, by thrust, he poured all of himself into the activities until another maddening twinge of pleasure within his crotch demanded that he give in.

Past this point, the very next thrust that he delivered became his last. After burying his cock through the congealed suckling of Yunie’s cuntflesh down to another grating writhe near her cervix, the beginnings of a second, hastily-prepared load of semen began blasting out from the nose of his length with the same invasive force as his last. Less blubbery and more plaster-like in quality, the strands discharged accepted far more compaction than those that were slotted into Elie minutes prior. Their contents still allowed for a healthy inundation of Yunie’s folds with time, but in terms of their containment, Yunie’s folds were spared a great deal of effort.

In the grand scheme of things, these differences changed little with regards to how Nicol’s release unfolded. Whereas Nicol slipped out of consciousness entirely, Yunie was consumed by her first semen-induced orgasm. Cross-eyed and orgasmic, she tightened her clinging to Nicol’s chest and squealed out at a volume that was certain to pierce the noise reduction of the studio surrounding them.

Challenged by her schoolmate, Linear followed suit. Subjected to a concentrated fingering for far too long, an explosion of murky cunt-syrup from out of her crotch appropriated her slobbering against Nicol’s face into an addled cooing that required her lips be unhooked from his own.

Cumulatively, in spite of the variance in its execution, Nicol’s orgasm found the females concerned with it (and Nicol himself) satisfied to the point of non-function.

Such were their states that Angelina—the event’s sole witness and the only female present yet to be debilitated by euphoria—could not help but stare at their adorable visages with longing.

It contained more than this as well—

If one looked close enough, a glowing approval could be seen just as clearly.

  
  
  
  
  



	4. Nicol and the World Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After narrowly averting disaster at the hands of the local government, goings-on within the Serin Facility calm down just enough for Nicol to become bored again. Now within his second year within the hospital, his yearning for the outside world sees him plan an outing that threatens to forever change the makeup of the city surrounding the facility.
> 
> Incidentally, his wandering brings him into contact with three young milfs in the midst of wrestling with the psychological and physical changes imposed onto their bodies by their first full term pregnancies. Will contact with these three milfs spare the rest of the city from Nicol's approach, or will the wildly-inappropriate intercourse he has with them mark the beginnings of the end?

Regardless of the validation placed behind it or the necessity set ahead of it, confinement is to a child no more than what it entails. Whatever might be gained from its imposition, the loss of freedom and excitement associated with it leaves little leeway for ‘positive framing’ through the starry eyes of children. No matter how deeply the concept is understood by a given child, or conversely, the extent to which it befuddles them, their stifling by it roots within them a rebellious contempt that only the availing of freedom can eradicate. Until it is provided, their relationships with those responsible for this confinement sour, and their perception of the world at large is perverted by feelings of powerlessness.

Uniformities notwithstanding, the degree to which a child might suffer from confinement is entirely dependent on the child in question. Whereas some children adapt to their circumstances and suppress the negative affect that they endure, others routinely lash out against it and commit themselves to one day overcoming the powers or circumstances responsible for their suffering. Succinctly, though they all suffer, some do so more so than others for reasons unique to their situations.

The most commonplace of these reasons is control. Not surprisingly, the amount of control maintained by a child in confinement is often directly correlated to their desire to escape from it. If at the very least their confinement can be molded into accordance with a reasonable amount of whimsy and ubiquity, the need that they feel to escape it is typically mitigated commensurately. Exceptions to this generality are nearly as various as the children to which it applies, but this does not entirely negate the idea that control in confinement renders the average afflicted child as ‘happier’.

In the case of Nicol _____—a child whose life ceased adherence to any sort of average on the day his near-corpse was dragged from the lake that ought’ve consumed him— ‘control’ served only to deepen his yearning for the outside world.

After spending over a year within the safety and comfort of the Serin Facility, the world that existed beyond its walls became increasingly difficult for him to ignore. To a point, the fuzzy memories that he maintained of his time as a normal child and the existences of the man and woman responsible for birthing him guarded his understanding of the world from the fantastical obscene(s) sometimes imagined by ignorant children. All the same, the innumerable treats purchased for him from bakeries and grocery stores by his nurses and the gifts purchased as presents for his anniversary within the facility accented his perception of it with flares of foreign appeal and excitement.

When first he began to feel pangs of longing for the world at large, the explanations he had received from his physician regarding the necessity of his confinement (and as well, the efforts that he went to in order to make his confinement purposeful) motivated him to attempt forgetting them. Driven to contribute to his own recovery whilst at the same time deferring to a kind man responsible for saving his life, doing as he was told allowed him to regard himself as a ‘good’ child capable of making sacrifices for others.

The passage of nearly a year did not alter his opinion on this subject so much as it created contention for it. Through his participation in the programs and events devised by Hector Ledh, the seemingly infallible nature of his control over those around him and the perpetually positive results reaped from it impressed upon him an idea capable of sowing dissent into the heart of any child:

_No matter what I do, nothing bad will happen._

Being a child nearing 9 years of age, Nicol’s sense of self prevented this idea from consuming him. Nevertheless, the depth of placement that it achieved within his mind incrementally bent his attentions towards testing its veracity.

The improvement of his physical constitution served only to exacerbate this. With the approach of his second summer within the Serin Facility came vast improvements in his stamina and mobility, and an elongation of his stints wandering around the facility away from the watchful eyes of those who cared for him. Unbothered throughout these periods, glances through the innumerable windows of the facility at differing hours of the day heightened his curiosity towards the state of the outside world whilst the comings and goings of those attached to the facility supplemented his knowledge of what it might be like.

Eventually, the idea within him grew cloying enough to bend his id into action. One way or another, he became of the opinion that the outside world was something that he needed to see for himself. No risks would be taken in his doing so, and after a sufficient amount of time spent enjoying it, he’d return to his bedroom whilst his attendants remained none the wiser.

Then, he believed himself to be without a suitable alternative; ignoring his desires for even a day longer than was necessary was from his perspective an ordeal more trying than escaping the facility ever could be.

Intent set, he turned his brain power toward creating an ideal opportunity for his outing. Throughout the month of May, he intentionally feigned indulgence in regular afternoon naps timed to periods that began just shortly after the lunch hour. Presenting as sleepy or slumbering throughout them, he remained within his bedroom for hours on end (accompanied or otherwise) so as to foster validity in his new pattern.

After establishing this as a new ‘norm’ for himself, he used it to his advantage. When at last his nurses began to perceive his afternoon naps as something commonplace enough to not require their participation of confirmation, he took the very first opportunity provided to him to escape from his bedroom undetected. Following routes tread by those he had observed throughout the preceding months, he steadily navigated his way through the facility until his pattering brought him to the fringes of the main entrance.

There, he took flight. Leveraging an influx of foot-traffic moving in and out of the facility, he mixed himself in amongst an outward-bound crowd until the warmth and sunlight of the outside assaulted his flesh unencumbered.

And he didn’t look back—not until the sprawling face of the facility was shrunk down to the width of his palm by the length of his departure…

-

**JUNE 15TH TOLIA CITY—INNER CITY SPRAWL**

That intrigue could be felt so consistently for extended periods of time was a discovery that Nicol happened upon amidst his half-walk, half-jog along the first stretch of sidewalk availed to him outside of the Serin Facility. From the very first slipper-clad step he placed onto the sun-warmed cement, the world around him took hold of his attention and left his legs with the task of carrying him wherever something of ‘interest’ might be found.

Being that his start point was a medical facility contained within a hospital within a major metropolitan area, the first site that his childish eyes latched onto was a collection of monolithic skyscrapers just to the west of the hospital enclosure. These made all the more alluring by the cloudless day above them and the sunlight sparkled across their windows, thoughts as to the sort of businesses they might contain and the number of people that might surround them drove him into an immediate wander towards their general direction.

Contrary to implications of the hospital gown draped over his frame and the childish indifference he displayed to those around him, Nicol made certain to keep his wandering from becoming aimless as he went. Raised for the majority of his near 9-year existence within one of an innumerable number of suburban districts whose populations fed into the capital city, the etiquette followed in traversing a city and the dangers associated with doing so were not lost on him. Though his gaze remained firmly set on his non-existent destination, he occasionally surveyed his immediate surroundings to ensure that he did not become an obstacle for others whilst making use of the sidewalk. Separately, he used his eyes to scan the traffic that flowed across the street to his left, and dutifully observed traffic-crossing signals whenever they arose. Really, if not for his inappropriate attire and juvenile starriness, one could have been forgiven for mistaking him as any other child making their way through a city.

Believing himself to be in accordance with all of the rules associated with the real world, Nicol happily volleyed between observation and progression without a care in the world. Effortlessly, he cycled his line of sight between their engrossment with the growing skyscrapers ahead of him and the populated sidewalks and streets surrounding him.

For a handful of seconds, he’d stare upwards.

For another handful, he’d resume maintaining his bearings. Afterwards, he’d return to gawking upwards for the same stretch of time he had before.

Objectively speaking, his grasp on this pattern was perfect. Were it only that he owned an attention span capable of focusing whilst surrounded by infinite stimuli, his execution of it would have delivered him to his destination within the hour. Instead, as a result of innumerable turns taken whilst his eyes were glued where they shouldn’t have been and several haphazard attempts at keeping out of the way of others, his progression eventually dragged him towards another destination entirely.

Much too enthralled with his outing to devote his usual attention to such things, Nicol only recognized this after the distance that separated him from the skyscrapers required that he turn his head backwards to even catch a glimpse of them.

On arrival at this point, he ceased walking entirely—

Suddenly, the humidity of the air and the unfamiliarity of his surroundings had become disquietingly real.

“Oh…”

“This is no good. I’m lost, aren’t I?” speaking his thoughts aloud in a voice almost too tepid to belong to a growing boy, Nicol turned from his left to his right throughout his utterance as if to confirm the extent of its truth. On confirmation of his unfamiliarity with the buildings and sidewalks surrounding him—foregone conclusions given his time within the facility—his doing so ended with a deflated drooping of his shoulders and a measured lamentation of his shortcomings.

“I’m such a baby—I must’ve ended up so excited that I lost track of where I was going. I thought I was gonna end up near those buildings, but it looks like I’m even farther away now than when I started.” he complained, pouting. “Dr. Ledh is always warning me to pay more attention to stuff. Maybe I haven’t grown up as much as I thought…”

Given reason to doubt himself for the first time in months, what felt to Nicol as a child-sized palm of ice enveloped his heart and accelerated its beating. As its grasp tightened, thoughts as to the trouble he’d create if he did not return to his bedroom at a reasonable hour flowed in and out of his mind in sequence alongside feelings of fear and discomfort.

Second by second, his emotions intensified the quality of these thoughts until his mind lost the ability to discern them as different from the stimuli that he was actually experiencing. Helpless and vulnerable, their dominance of his psyche made him wish to break down and cry in hopes that someone might hear him and arrive to fix his mistakes for him.

Yet he refused to.

Right as he allowed this thought to enter the forefront of his mind, a memory stamped into it nearly a year prior demanded that he do otherwise.

Contained within this memory were the face and voice of his physician.

_“You may not be normal, but there’s nothing that a normal child can accomplish that you can’t.”_

_“All you have to do is the very best you can.”_

Steeled by the admonishment he recalled, Nicol clenched both his fists and shook his head from left to right as aggressively as he could.

Almost immediately, this gesture replaced his fear with confidence.

“…I’m ok. I can solve problems for other people, so I can solve my own problems, too!” he chirped. “It’s not like I’ve never been lost before. All I need to do is find someone who knows where this place is and get directions back to the hospital. I might look weird, but I’m still a kid; people should be willing to help me if I ask nicely…I think.”

“Now, let’s see if I can find someone!”

Suddenly intrepid, Nicol surveyed his surroundings for a second time in search of an adult that might be willing to provide him with directions. Upon finding the stretches of sidewalk and store front surrounding him devoid of foot traffic, he resumed his patter forward in hopes of making his way up to the intersection nearest to him.

Pace accelerated, his gown-clad appearance jogging across an urban sidewalk on one of the hottest days of the year reached a new peak in eye-catching strangeness. Of course, with no one present to inform him of this, the fact of the matter was no more relevant to him than the fact that he had gotten himself lost in the first place.

Only seconds after his decision was made, his willingness to assume responsibility for himself proved the difference between the success and failure of his plan. Upon arrival at the intersection, the human presence that he sought was availed—albeit not in the manner he had expected.

Whereas his expectations had sat centered on the sight of people, what he received instead was the sound of them.

-

**TOLIA CITY—RESIDENTIAL BATTERY PRIVATE POOL**

“Alright, come on; in the water, you two! You might not think so now, but when the kids are here, you’ll be thanking me for this.”

“The sooner we start is the sooner we get to sunbathe. Sound like a plan?”

Galvanized in part by the water enveloping her frame and the sluggishness of her peers, Kirin Liel purposed her position as the first (and only) member of her three woman group to subject herself to the chill of pool water to goad her companions from their lingering at the tiled basin’s edge and join her before the afternoon waned further.

Though her chest was weighed down by milk-engorged G-cup breasts rounded by hormone-induced fattening and her midsection swelled by 8 consecutive months of consistent growth for her child, her idle wade within the water seemed almost too loose to belong to a pregnant woman. For her, this much was to be expected after years spent attending water aerobics classes during her spare time. The presence of a lively weight at her midsection did complicate her summer form initially, but after a week or so of recollection, the feel that the brunette had acquired for herself was returned to her in full.

Neither as gifted nor as dedicated as their mutual companion, the ‘expected’ for Kirin remained an exception for the two women She had addressed.

Between the two of them, Calis Eerie—a young woman owning a neatly-arranged head of neck-length, glossy-black hair and golden yellow eyes—stood out as the most ‘ill-suited’ for the activities that lay ahead. Midsection gravid with developing twins and breasts loaded to a mountainous H-cup with breast milk and fat (appropriate installments relative to the children that she would soon be feeding), first sight of her frame suggested that she was more likely to sink in water than she was to float in it.

Defiance of what was most apparent about her was what had driven her as far as the pool’s edge. When contacted by one of her peers from the ‘mother’s social group’ she frequented about a workout routine befitting the weather, the first thing that her mind jumped to was what her body might appear like in a swimsuit. Healthily swollen on all accounts, the absence of definition within her buttocks and the tantalizing puffiness of her thighs suggested that she’d present a great deal of ‘spillage’ and ‘tightness’ regardless of what she wore.

Behind her thoughts about her looks came those concerning how she might perform. Given the matronly bloat her frame had acquired as a whole—traits that her husband and those around her complimented as being extremely appealing given her circumstance—the likelihood of her succeeding at something like water aerobics without making a nuisance out of herself seemed slim.

Unwilling to submit herself to the painful realities presented to her by these thoughts, she agreed to her friend’s offer without any sort of inquiry as to the workout they would be doing. After preparing a bag containing towels, sun-screen, and snacks for herself and her peers, she donned a two-piece, egg-shell white bikini measured to fit her hips and bust prior to their fertile engorgement and departed from her apartment as naturally as the pillow-wide jiggling of her breasts and the ripe watermelon-scale wobbling of her bikini-bitten buttocks allowed.

Now faced with the plunge she had set out to make, the idea of actually going through with it riddled her frame with discomfort. More so fearful of embarrassing herself than outright failure, she used a projection of uncertainty by the only other woman insecure enough to respond to Kirin’s invite as an excuse to waffle at the edge of the pool for as long as she could.

Smiling nervously as the mild girlishness that defined her dictated, Beatrice Vising—or simply ‘Bea’ to her friends—purposed Calis’ indecision similarly. By far the least pregnant woman present—this indicated by her midsection’s waffling between its typical chubbiness and the taut roundness of a second trimester—her existence as the smallest and youngest woman of the group (this in spite of her pregnancy) made her feel as though the light of a scrutinizing spotlight was accentuating the girlishness of her body.

In reality, concerns about the make of her frame should have been the furthest from her mind. Skull-adorned by an excess of pale, buttocks-length blonde hair whose ends curled inwards and outwards as decorative hooks, and succulent flesh encased by sweat-glossed, milk-white flesh spared a great deal of stretching by her pregnancy, no part of her immediate appearance was particularly ‘strenuous’ on the human eye. As combined with the bulbous puffiness of the F-cup breasts slung from her torso and the finger-width ‘bandages’ of fabric that constituted the cups of her bikini (as well as the buttocks-impressed patches intended as coverage for her succulent lower lips and buttocks), her appearance was one tractable to the stereotypical ‘ideal’ for pregnancy amongst beach-going woman. That the soft-pink bloat of her areola and the inverted nipples at their centers were left almost completely exposed to the open air alongside the upper portions of her cunt lips (and all of the flesh above them) was irrelevant. Next to her peers, she could not be considered as lacking with regards to feminine appeal. 

In spite of the gifts that she maintained, Bea worried specifically about how her size might factor into her performance (relative to her peers). For this reason, she maintained her position beside Calis in hopes that the older woman might set a standard for her to meet. When she didn’t, lingering in discomfort until something about the situation changed became her only recourse.

Circumstances and viewpoints notwithstanding, each of the women present contributed equally to the stalemate that had consumed them. However ‘confusing’ the quagmire may’ve appeared to an outsider, the glances that they passed amongst one another and the conduction of telling twinges through their body language informed each of them as to exactly what their companions were doing and why they were doing it.

Left alone, this stalemate was likely to continue until the subdued hissing of the summer cicadas surrounding the pool ceased for the afternoon.

Before this conclusion could become anymore likely, the sound of footsteps leading into the pool from the male change room only a stone’s throw away from the lounge area provided the trio with an excuse to feign distraction. In almost perfect sequence, all three of them turned their line of sight towards the change room entrance in expectation of an unwanted male presence floundering into the aquatics session they had booked unannounced.

In doing so, their expectations were subverted. Right as their gazes fell onto the fraction of the pool to Bea’s left, a dark-haired boy dressed in only a hospital gown stumbled hardily into the pool area as though it belonged to him.

Then and there, the reasons that validated their stalemate ceased to matter.

“Hi!” the boy began, endearing features brightened by a warm smile. “I’m sorry to bother you guys, but I’m kinda lost. Do any of you know how to get to St. Ulster’s Hospital from here?”

Evidently clued in to the fact that he had interrupted an adult conversation, the boy’s placement of this question was followed by a silent ingress from the mouth of the changeroom over to where the woman he had addressed lingered.

Here, he briefly committed himself to silence before recognizing his violation of another important ‘rule’ concerned with conversation.

Pleasant as the older woman seemed, they remained strangers to one another. Without the creation of some form of intimacy, the odds of them helping him were slim.

This in mind, he put on his very best smile, wrapped his arms behind his back, and leaned inwards to introduce himself.

“Oh, sorry! My name’s Nicol _____ . It’s nice to meet all three of you ♥.”

As if manipulated by the projection of Nicol’s voice, the women that he addressed began moving forward the moment he finished speaking. Now formally introduced to the child that had interrupted them, both Bea and Calis saw no further ‘issue’ with using their upright standing positions to their advantage. In time with one another, they closed the remaining distance that separated them from Nicol, then pushed their frames to produce actions mitigated by the extent of their pregnancies and the protective instincts inherent to them.

Gait straightened by her purpose, Calis was the first to arrive ahead of him. Painfully aware of her competition’s ingress, she cupped the bottom portion of her stomach’s swell with her left hand, then balanced her way through a steady bend of her knees down into a squat.

Once at a depth that levelled her features with his own (a position that demanded a great deal from both her thighs and the tips of her toes), she surged inward. Thinking nothing of the youthful tininess of the boy ahead of her or the fact that she did not yet know him personally, she parted her lips, and messily impressed her mouth into a saliva-drenched kiss against his own.

On contact, slurping and suckling became her foremost priorities. Though yet to feel so much as a nuzzle of reciprocation from her miniature suitor, she moved from the placement of her first kiss to the imposition of wide, pressurized pecks of her saliva-glazed pillows against his own. Next, after ensuring that the entirety of his lower jaw was glazed in some amount of saliva, she reset her lips into ‘dead-center’ contact with his own and depressed as much of her tongue’s length into his oral cavity as she could.

Through these ‘gestures’, the disparities between the pair were accentuated. Beginning with the gratuitous compression of poorly-restrained breast flesh against Nicol’s torso, fractions of his frame ranging from his tongue to the scale of his lips were progressively outclassed in both scale and maturity. Faced with Calis’ kissing and suckling, nearly half of his lips’ span was consumed by her mouth throughout each kiss she delivered. Similarly, her tongue’s serpentine depression into his mouth saw his own organ depressed underneath its weight, and his throat filled with the taste of her flesh.

Were Nicol any other child, the arousal induced from his frame’s recognition of its relative helplessness was guaranteed to have overwhelmed his mind into a useless stupor.

But he was himself. Thus, he resigned himself to Calis’ hunger, and instead waited patiently for her to cease smearing the back of his throat with her saliva.

Throughout, the only thoughts that he entertained were related to the strides he had made towards returning to the hospital on time.

“This is great! I don’t know any of their names yet, but it seems like they’ll probably like me enough to try to help me!” he chirped, inner face smiling wistfully. “It makes sense since they’re girls, but I never would’ve found them if I didn’t keep myself moving. I should remember to say thank you to Dr.Ledh when I get back, haha.”

“For now, though, maybe I should find out who these ladies are exactly. That’d be the easiest way to get them to lead me back to the hospital, right?” he reasoned.

“Oh—never mind. Looks like they’re probably going to end up telling me themselves!”

Only seconds into his coupling with the dark-haired woman from the pool, the blonde that had stood at her side ceased her stemming to the left of her companion’s back and pressed her way in from behind her to drive her palms into contact with his shoulders. Largely indifferent to the depth of the kiss that she was observing, she dipped her torso forward just far enough to gently topple him off of his feet. Grasp maintained all the while, she seamlessly lowered his back down into contact with the tiled pool surface beneath them, then dragged her palms from their bracing of his shoulders down across his frame into contact with his hips.

In this time, the dark-haired woman abandoned her squat entirely. First angling herself to the immediate left of her squatted loom above his chest, she subsequently descended downward from her new, left-biased angle to replace her features as close to his cheek surface as her massively-gravid stomach would allow. Motivated as far as digging the tips of her toes against the ground whilst bracing the undersides of her forearms to either side of his frame to keep her midsection from bearing any of her torso’s weight, few (if any stones) went unturned in her quest to resume kissing with him.

Throughout her adjustment, the blonde fulfilled, and subsequently exceeded Nicol’s expectations.

“Well, aren’t you sweet!” she began, smiling. “I’m Beatrice—it’s very nice to meet you, Nicol. You’re very brave for coming to find adults right after getting lost! That hospital isn’t very far from here, so getting you back to the hospital shouldn’t take any time at all.”

After uttering these words, Beatrice put the hands that she had left on Nicol’s thighs to good use. Amidst a modest slurp of her tongue across her sealed lips, she pinched portions of his gown’s fabric between the thumb and index finger of both of her hands, then gently peeled its bedsheet-like thinness up from its draping across his crotch.

The moment the recently-fattened cudgel of drooling, hormone-soaked cockmeat rooted into his crotch was exposed, she abandoned the garment to a bunched-up tumble atop his midsection and continued speaking as though she hadn’t done anything at all.

“I, for one, wouldn’t feel very right sending you back to the hospital without looking after you first. I can’t really say the same for my friends, but I’m going to do my best to make sure you’re nice and sleepy before we bring you back ♥.” she stated, warmly.

“Don’t worry about my tummy, either. Me being this way just means you can **fuck out as much stinking babyjuice** inside me as you’d like~!”

More or less accustomed to declarations of this sort, Nicol met his new companion’s sweetly toned suggestion with an enthusiastic extension of his hand above his head, and an elongated “Okay!” of celebration.

Despite his intending to maintain this utterance for at least a few seconds following its production, a second pecking of the dark-haired woman’s lips against his own cut its echo throughout the pool short.

“Nice to meet you as well, Nicol~. I didn't really want us to be interrupted by Bea, but she has a point. Sending you back to the hospital when we’re perfectly capable of making you comfortable first wouldn’t be a very motherly thing for any of us to do.” she started, naturally. “I’m Calis, by the way. Feel free to just call me ‘Mom’ instead, though ♥.”

Introductions complete, the pair parted ways with regards to their behavior. Already settled within an appropriately-deep squat, Beatrice reached down with her right hand to drag the arousal-soaked spec of useless fabric choking her cuntlips out of contact with their drenched exterior. Made to sever several thick threads of cuntsyrup in the process, the gutting arousal that seemed to have consumed her in the minutes that had passed since Nicol’s failed to stymie her any further than this. Once exposed, she waddled forward from her squat overtop her miniature suitor’s kneecaps until the balmy underside of his shaft was squished into contact with her womanhood.

A moment later, all 7 inches of the vascular spire were skewered into her cunt behind a sodden *PLATT!* of her crotch down against Nicol’s crotch. After briefly raising her crotch above his erection’s nose via the slightest ascent from out of her squat, Beatrice subsequently abandoned all responsibility for maintaining her body weight long enough to bring her crotch crashing down against the bee-stung glans of her adorable suitor’s length. Then of the opinion that her pregnancy-fattened frame might not be heavy enough to achieve the depression that she desired, she punctuated her drive with a squaring of her palms’ surface against her kneecaps and an emphatic “EI~!” that suggested the application of her musculature in the effort as well.

Having gone above and beyond the requirements of her circumstance, her efforts fished a strained coo of bliss from Nicol’s throat right as the pulsing rigidity of his erection was submerged into the squirming sleeve of pregnant cunt-flesh stowed between her lower lips. 

As combined with the inexplicable adoration that she had developed for him, this reaction served as the primary motivator for the actions that she produced beyond this juncture. Whilst no more conscious of her behaviour than she’d be if she were reading a child a story or escorting one by the hand to a destination of her choice, Beatrice began engaging her thighs and buttocks in the production of square plunges of her crotch up and down along the length of Nicol’s member.

From her gooey hilt at its root, she masterfully peeled her lower lips out of contact with the hairless expanse it had consumed with ‘decompressions’ of her thighs that began with the off-loading of more of her body weight down onto the tips of her toes. On the rise, contractions within her thighs and buttocks carried her ascent nearly halfway up the adorably-oversized phallus she had driven skewered into herself before the sheer excess of body weight at her midsection demanded that she plunge downward. Whilst descending, the ease associated with allowing the phallus-wringing suction of her cunt to re-envelope the syrup-lathered cockmeat she dragged out of herself granted her enough leeway to make the event as impactful as her first descent. Right as she began to slide downwards, she curled her hips inwards to mash the aroused puffiness of her slobbering canal along the underside of Nicol’s length more tightly. Then, when another sweaty *PLOPP* of her rear signalled the compression of her assfat against his crotch, she leveraged her palms’ placement atop her kneecaps to amplify the weight (and depth) of her impact with a deft nuzzling of her assfat down against his crotch.

Already elated by the pleasure pumped along his erection when first she depressed herself, Nicol’s perception of the stimuli that her motions produced was ultimately muddled by the pace at which she produced them. Immediately after her second plunge, Beatrice began driving her crotch up and down along the squirming bloat of his cock in near-perfect mimicry of the stroke pattern she had started with. Evidently stimulated in her own right, the degree of devotion she invested into these efforts soon saw the noisy plapping of her assfat against his crotch complimented by a regular string of *Hoo♥*(s) entirely appropriate for a pregnant woman.

Among other things, Beatrice’s production of these coos became yet another seasoning for the mixed sensations dragged along his cock. Throughout her ascents, they complimented the skin-tight suction her syrup-smeared canal flesh applied from the base of his cock up to its midsection, and at the same time made it impossible for him to do anything but enjoy the vice-like compression that her folds smothered his meat with. Complimentarily, the phallus-smothering rush of spluttering cuntflesh that followed with each dumping of her crotch served as a repeated reminder for the amount of semen building up within his crotch, and to a greater extent, the degree to which a pocket of oven temperature canal flesh might scrub and convulse against his glans after the delivery of a heavy blow against the cervix ahead of it.

For as much as Nicol wished to compare these sensations to those the other women within his life treated him to, focusing on them was made a non-option for him well before Beatrice’s pumping began in earnest.

Throughout the very same period of time that she used to initiate her metronome, her peer ensured that his focus was firmly split between the two of them.

Much to his surprise, she managed this with her voice well before attempting to do so otherwise.

“How does that feel, Nicol? I’ll bet her insides are all tight and squishy just for your cock ♥.” Calis chirped. “Knowing Bea, she’s probably going to put a lot of effort into trying to drain out all of your cum, too. As much as I wish that I could be doing it instead, having her start should work out well for everyone. After all, it’ll be easier for me to milk you with my cunt once I know how much stimulation you can stand ♥.”

Upon pressing these words through her lips, Calis’ priorities overtop his frame shifted. Heaving herself near upright from her greedy smother of his chest by setting her palms flat against the ground and pushing off of them, she next moved herself up into a seated position that left her knees bent underneath her whilst angling her frame such that both Nicol and Beatrice were granted a view of her front

Freed from the management of her sorely-pregnant body mass, her attention turned straight back towards her tiny muse. Pressing her left arm downwards, she looped the face of her forearm width-wise across the back of his neck before stopping its ingress at a point that allowed her to press her palm into contact with his left shoulder. This done, she hoisted his upper body just high enough off the ground to bring the right edge of his mouth into contact with the nipple-bloated bikini-fabric ‘covering’ her right breast. Steady and deliberate in her execution, she made certain that his lower body was kept flat enough for Beatrice to work with by dipping her upper body downward in time with Nicol’s ascent (thereby cutting the height that she needed to draw his frame up to).

No less smiley for the effort, she explained the purpose behind her ministrations the moment she was finished with them.

“I’m here too, though ♥. Now that I think about it, you must’ve been lost for a while if you ended up all the way out here after leaving the hospital.” she continued, warmly. “You should drink some of my milk; you’ll need lots of energy if you’re going to work all of that goopy babyjuice out~.”

Whereas her lips presented her suggestion as an offer to be accepted or refused, her behaviour effectively mandated it. While speaking, she used her right hand to drag the meagre coverage of her bikini off of her left breast.

The swollen knob of soft pink nipple flesh underneath the sweetly-scented fabric did not sit unused for even a second. With the very same hand that exposed it, Calis mushed the meat of her nipple and areola up against the edge of Nicol’s mouth and squeezed down on it with the full width of her palm. Through this, a heavy flourish of the thick white cream responsible for the flesh sac’s swell spurted from the ducts strewn out across the region straight out against Nicol’s mouth.

Collectively, these gestures were meant to deny Nicol any sort of choice in the matter of her milk’s usage. Learned in the predilections of young children when presented with certain comforts, she used what knowledge she maintained to create a situation that he couldn’t run away from.

And he didn’t. Though largely aware of what Calis had intended with her offer, Nicol could not help but respond to it as she assumed he would. ‘Starved’ by the sleeve of cuntflesh sliding up and down his cock, he parted his lips, then pressed his skull inward just far enough to allow the majority of the milk that she squeezed out of her breast to drain out towards the back of his throat.

His doing so had nothing to do with his being pressed for nutrients, however. Throughout Calis’ admonishment, movement within the corner of his eye suggested that availing himself this way would simplify whatever was to become of the remainder of his time with the pregnant women he had stumbled onto.

This in mind, he drank. Content to refrain from latching his lips onto the appetizing swell of Calis’ nipple, he instead kept his head turned in the direction of her nipple and availed his mouth to the expulsions of breast milk that followed her first. As these actions constituted behaviour that Calis had expected of him, his doing so perfectly matched the timing at which she produced a second hearty squeeze of her right breast.

From this point onward, he repeatedly gulped down half-mouthfuls of the bitter sweet cream whilst the warmth it introduced into his esophagus further addled his frame with stimulation. Such was the comfort he acquired with his circumstance that, given time and sufficient intoxication, a plastering of his lips to Calis’ breast became inevitable.

Ultimately, though, both of these prerequisites went unachieved. Only seconds into his gulping, the extension of another arm across the back of his neck and the settling of another leaking expanse of breast flesh to the left of his mouth dictated that he keep his mouth exactly where it was.

If he didn’t, the odds of him being able to consume milk from two different breasts would shrink down to an impossibility.

“Hahhhh~, if only you had shown up sooner, Nicol. If I could’ve gotten you into the pool, maybe I would’ve been able to actually get these two to do some exercise…”

Jovial in her exasperation, one would have been hard pressed to determine that the first words that Kirin produced upon taking up a kneeling position at Nicol’s left were unrelated to her descent. Pressed solely by matronly desire, she experienced no difficulty in peeling the fabric of her bikini off of her cleavage whilst angling herself adjacent to Nicol's frame as Calis had, and wasted no time in propping the meat of her right nipple up against his mouth.

Subsequently, she began squeezing it. Of the opinion that her actions constituted behavior that was completely appropriate, she used her left hand to repeatedly press spurts of milk out of her breast and into Nicol’s waiting mouth.

As she did so, she continued with her address.

“I guess this should work just as well, though. It’s a different kind of exercise entirely, but it’s just as good for our bodies at the end of the day.” she explained, grinning. “You’re going to need plenty of energy if we’re all going to participate, so make sure you drink as much of my milk as you can as well. The hospital would never let us hear the end of it if we brought you back in worse shape than you left ♥.”

In spite of his predicting Kirin’s approach (to a point), her words caught Nicol without the resources required to refuse her. Now minutes into enduring Beatrice’s weighted milking of his member alongside Calis’ squirting heated cream into his mouth, the presentation of yet more stimulation at the left side of his mouth was to his juvenile frame an additional slice of cake ahead of an individual prone to gluttony. By simply parting his lips slightly wider and aligning his mouth between the nipples to either side of him, Nicol acquired for himself two different flavors of breast milk to satiate himself with—a dream come true for a young man intimately familiar with the affirming flavours produced by a woman’s chest.

For his gluttony, he paid a familiar price. Over time, Beatrice’s scrubbing of his member with quivering cuntflesh and the soothing bliss he acquired from ingesting the breast milk offered to him pushed his frame past its meagre capacity for stimulation. Without a means with which to level himself and devoid of a desire to seek one out, his musculature defaulted to escapist trembling and squirming before his innards acquiesced to their circumstance entirely.

With this came the expected.

* **PLORT** **♥♥** **!** *

After a seemingly innocuous plunge of Beatrice’s crotch against his own fed the noise of yet another collision of sex-drenched drenched organs out into the pool’s airspace, an eruption of cockjuice up from the root of his cock complimented its echo with a series of comparably guttural *GLRPS!*. Initiated as an unstifled “Mnnnughh ♥” rippled out of Beatrice’s throat, the vaguely digestive rumbles acquired in an instant both the volume and consistency required to draw the women to either side of Nicol’s frame into adherence of their production.

Given the source from which they stemmed, a certain amount of attention from those present was completely appropriate. Following the delivery of a thread of dingy-white cockjuice textured in mimicry of the pliant heaviness of molten resin out into a flesh-obscuring ‘clot’ atop the face of Beatrice’s cervix, the escalation of Nicol’s orgasm saw meaty wads of the substance blasted out against her core at an alarming pace. Thanks to the depth that she achieved with her final plunge, the contents of these steaming expulsions were almost entirely focused towards the ‘core’ of her vaginal canal. Specifically, after the release of a given strand imposed a pressurized smearing of squirming cockjuice against the bulbous meat of her cervix—events that only served to worsen the orgasmic convulsions that had consumed her inner walls—a fair fraction of their contents were pushed out into flesh-obscuring streaks across the stretches of canal flesh leading up to it. Initially spewed back through her depths as immovable streaks of semi-solid grime only half as long as the semen threads that constituted them, the continued discharge of semen from Nicol’s cock saw all of the puffy canal lining leading backwards from his glans consumed underneath layered threads of nut. These made to coalesce into a segmented blockage of cockjuice denied domination of her folds by the presence of his cock, its fattening (the blockage) eventually resulted in the same conclusion set out for finite containers faced with seemingly infinite ‘contents.

Seconds after the noisy initiation of Nicol’s orgasm, a vehement *BLORP* spewed from her cunt as a muted tumble of dough-dense cockjuice erupted from Beatrice’s crotch-compressed lower lips marked its climax. Beyond this point, the volume of semen fed into her cunt’s core per shot from his length ebbed off to a volume that served only to elongate the outflow’s compilation across the expanse of his crotch.

Predictably—assuming one viewed proceedings through the lens of a child treated to similarly intense intercourse on a near daily basis—this event also coincided with a renewal of Beatrice’s desire to contribute to Nicol’s pleasure. Momentarily stifled by the sensation of virile slop plugging up her already-stuffed depths with semen, the ebbing of the substance’s drainage into her cunt returned to her the wherewithal required to enjoy the event for what it was.

Though her mind did not view it with the degenerate significance that it deserved, the aggressive squirming of sperm cells against the throbbing meat of her cunt and the uterus-warming ‘fullness’ that her vaginal canal acquired remained as pleasant for her as they would’ve been otherwise.

Needless to say, neither of these sensations were so pleasant as to distract her from her aim. Within a half-minute or so of stupefied cooing and complimentary swirls of her hips intended to drag languid wads of semen left within Nicol’s urethra out of his length, Beatrice pushed her swollen frame up and off of his cock of her own volition. Extending her legs from out of their squat until the still-erect bulb of cockflesh at the tip of his member slipped from her folds behind a messy blurt of semen, her accomplishing this saw her crotch-set gaze rise up towards Nicol’s face again for the first time in several minutes.

Too aroused to pay any mind to its presentation’s incongruence with her memories, an utterance stored within the back of her throat from the midpoint of his orgasm onward trickled from out of her mouth at the same pace that globs of semen drooled from her cuntlips.

“Woooooow ♥. You pumped so much muddy, squirmy dickmilk inside of me and yet your cock is still as hard as before.” she exhaled, breathily. “I guess it really is a good thing that all of us are here to help you. By myself, draining you completely probably would’ve ended up making my tummy even larger...”

“Ah, looks like I’ve got to switch, though. Everything will be fine ♥. I couldn’t do it all myself, but that’s why **there are three of us here** , right?”

This uttered, Beatrice traded further speech for retreat. Prompted by a pair of helpful hands willing to help support her weight throughout her ascent, she soon found that the incongruence she had spotted had not simply been her imagination.

Without a word or a single sound of indication, Kirin had moved from her position breast-feeding Nicol to one directly behind her.

“Yup, she’s exactly right, Nicol!” Kirin added, grinning. “We’re all here to support you, so if that means that we need to take turns, that’s exactly what we’ll do.”

“I’ve been wanting to get some exercise in since before you even showed up, so I hope you won’t mind me jumping in like this. If you actually need a break or something, just speak up, okay?”

If earnest in her admonishment, Kirin’s utterance was one defined by apparent indifference and ignorance. After helping Beatrice up and out of her squat, she used its duration (her utterance) to set herself into a tellingly intimate squat all her own. From her standing position ahead of Nicol, she turned her back to his line of sight, then engaged her legs just as her companion had to drive the toned bloat of her bronzed buttocks down towards his semen-smeared cock.

Throughout her descent, she prepared herself. Yet to spare even a thought as to whether or not her panting suitor was prepared for the continuation of his draining, she reached behind her frame with both hands to drive her palms into satisfying depressions against the puffy musculature of her buttocks. On contact, she curled her fingertips inwards against her flesh in search of control, and next purposed what she acquired to peel the meat of her cheeks apart from one another.

An instant later, her descent came to an end. Suddenly in ownership of enough sexual experience to feel her way towards her destination, Kirin used the heat and moisture that billowed from Nicol’s semen-drenched girth to guide the cute succulence of her sphincter straight down into contact with the nose of his glans. Eerily certain as to its position, she wasted no time in dumping the weight of her lower body down towards his crotch and spiking the full length of his erection into her guts with the same gutting efficiency her peer had. Unbothered by the gooey oppression imposed onto her intestines and enticed by the strained throbs that rippled through his cock’s flesh as a result of the congealed compression they were driven through, she refrained from an orgasmic squirm, and instead used the choking of her sphincter with cockmeat as a foundation with which to begin milking Nicol in earnest.

All at once, she began manipulating her hips and thighs into the delivery of one swirl-accented plunge of her asshole’s meat across Nicol’s semen-drenched member after another.

In these masturbatory bounces was the same ignorance and indifference belied by her speech. Had any part of her lust-addled psyche thought to wait until Nicol spoke up as to his condition or adhere to the implications in the expression he produced after her offer, the short-length surges of her sphincter’s embrace from the root of his length up along a third of the cockmeat that extended up from it would never have crossed her mind as an option. 

More so than any other pattern she could have selected, these motions kept the sore bloat of Nicol’s cock and all of the modestly-overfed veins that enveloped its ‘reasonable’ excess smothered with her hungry shithole’s constriction most consistently. Whilst drawn out from its hilt, her hole’s vacuum-like suction was applied at its worst to the basal inches of his shaft. And, as only seconds separated a given retraction from another flooring of her rear, the overstimulated nose of his glans was kept in near perpetual transition through the underused tightness of her asshole’s congealed beginnings.

Such stimulation vastly exceeded tolerance ‘post-orgasm’. Dizzied—if pleasantly—from his first orgasm, Kirin’s swapping places with Beatrice caught him without the wherewithal to speak. Whilst his mouth and tongue remained encumbered by two different sources of creamy breastmilk, his mind refused to dwell on anything save the short-lived emptiness that had appeared within his crotch. Though he remained capable of speaking with his face—this evident in the nervousness that he donned at her declaration—accomplishing much more than this was too strenuous an effort for him to undertake.

As a result of this, Kirin’s driving him into her asshole cast a definitive die with regards to proceedings. Try as he certainly did to resist the guttural steam-rolling of her semen-greased innards along his member, their perpetual kneading of its worn nerve-endings drove him over the same ‘edge’ he had been worked up to within Beatrice’s cunt.

Less than a minute into Kirin’s feverish skewering, he burst. Behind a boyish squeak choked by the breast milk welled within his mouth and a strained gritting of his teeth, a short fit of throbbing and convulsion for his length ended with a haggard flourish of sludgy cockjuice from out of the tip of his cock. Less resin-like and lumpier and chunk-laden in comparison to the grime that vacated his balls at the beginning of his first orgasm, the squirming substance’s ascent through his length carried with it a stimulation so grating that merely groaning at it no longer sufficed as catharsis.

When finally its entirety was spewed out against the clamouring intestine-lining ahead of his glans as an oblong burst of glutted nut (i.e thin at its ends and engorged with reproductive slop at its middle), a choked exclamation of pleasure escaped his lips alongside it.

“Awwuughh~ M-My stuff’s gonna come out! I’m gonna splatter my babyjuice out inside of you!”

No less enamoured with her suitor’s sudden orgasm than she would have been with one earned through minutes of strenuous sex, Nicol’s outburst reached Kirin whilst her eyes sat crossed towards one another. Impressively, though her mind had been consumed by the orifice-staining weight of the cockjuice that had been spewed out into her intestines, its quality (the utterance) remained cutting enough to remind her of the purpose that his release was to serve in the first place.

Nicol needed to be drained of all of his semen. Whether with her asshole or one of her companions’, accomplishing this and returning him to the hospital he had come from was of the utmost importance.

By focusing his mind on this idea, the outburst of pleasure she intended to release as similarly hole-clogging expulsions of slightly-discoloured semen were launched into intestine-fattening discharges through her guts was exchanged for something more purposeful.

In that moment, only a single string fitting this definition came to mind.

“Nnnnuuuyghhh ♥♥ M-My asshole’s getting’ filled with s-s much of Nicol’s gluey cockjuice~! B-Better get ready, C-Calis’; s’gonna be your turn to milk him reeeeeeeeeeeeeeallly soon ♥.”

Still reeling from his release, the meaning installed in Kirin’s utterance went straight over Nicol’s head.

Of course, had he grasped it, its effect on his psyche was likely to have been limited to a rehashing of a conclusion he had arrived at hours prior:

_“The world really is a fun place.”_

_-_

**_Nicol — Patient Symptomatology & Rehabilitation Record #5_ **

_-Maintained and authored by Dr. Hector Ledh, Senior Pediatric Specialist. To be deleted at his discretion._

_Day 546 (Year 2, June): It has been several months since I’ve made one of these entries, so I’ll state now that nothing of significance occurred throughout the months that separate this one from the last. My reasons for refraining from recording anything throughout this period are profuse, but for the sake of expediting my completing this entry, you may continue reading under the assumption that Nicol has kept me busier than usual._

_My saying that is as much an exaggeration as it is an exact statement of the truth. The remainder of winter and the beginning of spring were entirely uneventful relative to the norm established throughout the preceding year—so much so that I risked rehashing information each time I attempted to sit and record something. The summer began with much of the same, and I certainly wouldn’t have complained if things remained this way._

_Perhaps this optimism was what doomed me._

_Only two days prior to my writing this, behaviour from Nicol left me as busy as I’ve ever been at this facility. At 1:30pm on June 15_ _th_ _, Nurse Stellar reported Nicol as missing from his bedroom over an hour after leaving him for one of his afternoon naps. Upon confirming that he had not simply wandered out into one of his walks throughout the facility, she sought me out and informed me of this whilst in a state of complete panic. Even now, I can hardly believe that she managed to avoid alerting the entire facility about what had transpired on her way to me—the tears in her eyes were truly something to see._

_My first thought after learning of this concerned all of the quiet throughout the months leading into the onset of summer. All of the routine normalcy; all of the simple compliance from Nicol; in a way, everything pointed towards the occurrence of a major event in the near future. I, like my colleagues within the facility, were simply too naïve to see it coming._

_In the midst of it all, wasting time lamenting my stupidity did not feel very purposeful. The moment I was finished dragging Nurse Stellar down from her hysteria, I suggested that she collect a handful of the nurses closest to Nicol and set out from the facility in search of him under the pretence of a lunch date. Her experience spared me the need to stress a need for secrecy, and to my surprise, her understanding of the importance behind this task was concrete. I realize now that her physical and mental attachment to Nicol likely played a part in this, but I digress._

_Despite my own panic, I was cautiously optimistic about his contact with others being minimal. For one thing, only an hour had passed since his absconding from the hospital. Even within Tolia, only so many people could have come into contact with him in that amount of time._

_This aside, I had my own inklings about the intent behind his departure. During our many conversations about his leaving the facility, Nicol typically displayed more interest in the sights and sounds outside of the facility compared to the people. From this, I inferred that he’d be more likely to go out and try to see something than he would be to attempt meeting new people._

_I didn’t think twice about this. Abnormal as his interactions with others are, Nicol’s social skills have remained more or less in line with what I’d expect for a child with above average intelligence. Between this and his popularity within the facility, I reasoned that there was no backing for the idea that he might be starved for social interactions._

_Convinced of this and nothing else, I set out from the hospital myself using my deduction as a guide. Taking into account Nicol’s childish propensity to become distracted between tasks, I drove towards the skyscrapers of the downtown core before bending my approach to the east. At all times, I made sure that a portion of the cityscape was visible in my periphery, and scanned the sidewalks in search of him._

_I can’t say for certain whether it was my decisions that helped me find him or several fortunate strokes of luck in a row, but my veering into some of the urban residences built into the city ended up being what helped me find him._

_Truth be told, he was very hard to miss. At the center of a trio of pregnant women wearing bikinis stained by what appeared to be a mixture of semen and breast-milk, his gown and disposition stuck out like sore thumbs. From a distance, I did not want to invest myself in the idea that finding him would be so easy, but after driving up to them, I had no other choice._

_I have seen Nicol jump out at those that he has become familiar with many times, but I have never seen him do so in the way that he did when he recognized me. It may’ve been the case that he wanted to dissuade me from becoming upset at him, but as far as I could tell, he seemed genuinely remorseful about sneaking out and relieved that someone had come to find him. He claimed then that the women surrounding him had offered to escort him back to the facility after learning that he was lost, but the fact he had been missed in spite of his breaking one of the few rules set out for him made my arrival especially important to him._

_I did not know what to say then, and I still don’t. By venturing out of the facility in search of him, I resigned myself to entering a reality permanently altered by whatever has become of his body. If I were to provide an excuse for my failure to chastise him then, it would be on account of my relief that only three of women out of the entirety of the city’s population were affected by him._

_The most intrepid among you likely found that three new names were added to Nicol’s approved visitors list beginning from June 15_ _th_ _. These names belong to the three women that Nicol stumbled onto during his time out. Even after confirming my identity to them, providing them this service and allowing them free reign to visit Nicol within reason proved a necessary compromise for them to release him into my custody. Nicol being Nicol, the congeniality he displayed towards them did not make this task any easier in the end._

_By acquiescing to them, I was able to return to the facility with Nicol without further issue. From here, my status within the facility allowed the two of us to return to his bedroom without being stopped for questioning by any of the auxiliary staff. I’d ordinarily argue that my freedoms within this facility are undeserved, but given what they facilitated in this case, I don’t feel as though I have a right to complain._

_In the wake of the incident and the trauma it induced amongst the nursing staff, I decided to change my policy towards Nicol leaving the facility. Provided at least one of the nurses is present alongside him, I believe that structured outings that prioritize the avoidance of others should do him more good than harm._

_My reasoning is simple: His escaping once tells me that sufficient motivation is the only thing that stands between him and escaping again. Even if I increased the amount of security that surrounds him, this would simply result in his becoming cunning. I do not think I need to tell you the kind of problems that would arise if a boy with his capacity for control decided to begin plotting against the people who look after him._

_It is far from the best of circumstances, but everything considered, I believe that this is the best I can do._

_Nicol is aging. To deny him the ability to spread his wings as other children do would be to deny him what few claims to normalcy he can still make._

_Facts aside, I haven’t really had the time to think of something better of late. Since last year’s funding debacle Fi and Bella have mandated the provision of semi-public tours of the facility by both taxpayers and the municipal political figures that represent them. For reasons I am still not entirely clear on, it was decided that I’d be the best man for this task in spite of the fact that I am still a practicing physician._

_Essentially, on top of all of my other work, I am now required to lead laymen throughout the facility and convey to them how much ‘value’ it contains. Supposedly, this will bolster public opinion towards the money that we receive to manage it whilst at the same time investing the general public in our successes._

_My thoughts on the tours aside, I’m perfectly willing to contribute to them if this is the end goal that they achieve._

_Really, my only wish is for those two to give me the ability to choose the individuals selected for these tours. It’s probably just a coincidence, but those selected thus far have been predominantly female. This isn’t an issue fundamentally, but in this facility, it may as well be._

_I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see what comes of them._

-

**TRAVERSING THE SERIN FACILITY & YOU**

Though only slightly larger than the average hospital, those familiar with the Serin Facility tend to define it as a locale more convoluted and complex than most.

Truth be told, arguing for this ascription is far easier than arguing against it. Home to a full five floors of fully-equipped inpatient bedrooms, operating rooms of various sizes, and a number of adjacent rehabilitation facilities, most all of the space contained within it is taken up by someone, something, or a combination of both. Additionally, as the patient population of each of its floors are bound within given age ranges, the differing hallway layouts and visual aesthetics chosen to accommodate these populations dictate that no one floor can be mistaken for another. Succinctly, the facility is a miniature world in and of itself—as it ought given the extent of its funding.

Though there is a great deal of overlap between its complexity and convolution, a point of exclusivity touched upon by most who traverse its hallways centres on the volume of foot traffic that the facility maintains on a regular basis. Regardless of where one is within the facility, children of a variety of ages can be found as accompanied by nurses, specialized medical professionals, and even one another in numbers better-suited to a lowly populated preschool. Easy as it would be to reduce their numbers to a natural occurrence within any large scale pediatric facility, the majority of individuals who find themselves lost within the Serin Facility cite the excess of children that it contains as the primary cause for their losing track of themselves.

Sickly, recovering, or otherwise, children attract attention. In adherence to instincts inherent to humanity, uninvested visitors to the facility (i.e. those present for reasons unrelated to visiting family members) typically become enamoured with the stories and circumstances of the children that they come into contact with. In doing so, they lose their bearings, and as a result push themselves towards further distraction whether they recognize as much or not.

In response to numerous incidents regarding lost visitors, the Serin Facility administration mandated the attachment of guides to all first-time entrants into the facility. Additionally, the contents of the internal tours carried out within its midst were adjusted to devote additional time to informing new visitors as to how to make their way through the facility on their own and seek out assistance as they require it.

For the most part, these efforts contributed to marked decreases in the number of complaints received as to the facility’s size and layout. Nevertheless, a fair fraction of its visitors remain dissatisfied solely as a result of their refusal to ‘buy-in’ to the guiding resources provided to them.

By virtue of a deadly blend of stubbornness with curiosity, four adult women invited into the facility as public representatives unwittingly placed themselves amongst the ranks of these ‘dissatisfied’ individuals. After less than an hour of dutiful adherence to the monotone directions and explanations provided by their tour guide, the musings of the woman at the helm of this foursome tempted the miniature group to cut itself off from their fellow representatives in search of a ‘broader’ view of the facility as a whole.

Not surprisingly, the end result of this decision was an immediate wander away from their intended course, and a steady descent into fractions of the facility that most dared not tread.

Before long, the idea that they had become lost slipped from their minds entirely—

Somehow, deep down within the core of their minds—they became of the opinion that they had merely set off in search of something that the path established by their guide could not take them to…

-

**JUNE 22** **ND** **SERIN FACILITY—JUVENILE FLOOR**

“Really, another cafeteria? Shouldn’t there only be one?”

“No, no, I get that, Julia. I’m just trying to figure out how big this place actually is…”

Annoyed at her circumstance, Niely Search abruptly ended the conversation she had started with her peer to cross her arms and pitch her frame backwards against a stretch of hallway wall only steps away from her current position. Made pensive by her contact with it, she afterwards began sifting through her memories in search of information about her surroundings that they likely didn’t contain.

To her, aimless digging was better than no digging at all. Since her assuming responsibility for leading her friends through the facility an hour prior, nothing resembling an exit from its interior or a straightforward path through it had appeared within her line of sight. When she bothered to direct it at something that was not a stray child or a preoccupied nurse, the only things that she laid eyes on were signs bearing arrowed directions whose meanings she couldn’t decipher. Thus, though she did not have a particular ‘plan’ in mind for her doing so, she reasoned that peering into herself and examining these pictures was the best thing that she could apply herself to.

No more or less comfortable with their circumstances than their de-facto leader, Niely’s outburst prompted similar fits of recollection from her peers.

Fresh from her return from a stretch of hallway she had explored of her own volition, Julia Terine opted to share her thoughts aloud instead of sifting through them internally. First turning to face her statuesque companion in hopes of addressing her directly, the frustrated grinding of her (Niely’s) thumb against one of the two lime-green arcs of hair that curled down and away from the back-length mop on her head bade her to shift her focus towards her two peers instead.

This done, she exhaled, and laughed nervously so as to diffuse the tension that Niely’s frustration had injected between them.

“H-Haha, I guess that serves us right for leaving the group, huh?” she suggested, airily. “This place is supposed to be the largest pediatric facility in the country, so us not being able to navigate it properly is probably normal.”

“We got this far on our own, so maybe it’s just time we stopped and asked someone about how to get back together with the group? I mean, we may not be able to see what we came here for, but maybe we can just ask that Dr. Ledh person about it?” she continued, tepidly.

Having produced this utterance in hopes that one of the group's two remaining women would produce a suggestion of their own, a mild frustration seeped into Julia’s visage when it became apparent that the two of them preferred silence.

Unwilling to facilitate the creation of a second stalemate, she rebuked the early-onset of this event by pressing the pair further.

“Asahi, Tita, any thoughts? Even if you just agree with me, it’s better if we come to a decision together. That way, we won’t have to go back on it later.”

Denied further reservation by the petite brunette who so often served as the group’s voice of reason, the women that she addressed abandoned their detachment from proceedings and stepped forward one at a time to ensure that their doing so would be caught within the corner of Niely’s eye.

The first of the pair to make their move was Asahi. After rubbing a hand across the back of her head and tousling the dense, neck-length locks of violet/navy-blue hair at the region for a moment, she gestured with her left hand as if to table a suggestion towards the entire group.

“I’m on board. Obviously, we’re lost—wandering around much more isn’t going to help anything.” she argued. “We’re guests here, so as embarrassing as it is, we can just say that we got lost looking for a bathroom or something, no?”

Garnering nods of agreement from both Julia and Tita, Asahi immediately applied the affirmation she acquired into a stare directly at Niely.

“We’re adults, Niely. As nice as it would’ve been for us to take something interesting back to the parents’ association, I think our main focus should be not making trouble while we’re here.” she continued. “Assuming no one has noticed that we’re gone, there’s definitely going to be a bit of uproar when that doctor finds out that we’re missing. The sooner we get back to Nicol is the sooner we’ll be able to play everything off as normal—we’ll probably still have time to ask about something more interesting, too.”

Painfully familiar with her friend’s stubbornness, Asahi momentarily bent her gaze away from Niely to direct a knowing glance at Tita. Features curtained below her forehead by the excess of black bangs that slumped across her face, determining whether or not she agreed with any of the arguments presented was difficult to discern from her expression.

Fortunately, Tita’s awareness of this fact resulted in her stating her thoughts on the subject as firmly as her timid disposition would allow.

“I-I agree too, Niely. W-We haven’t really seen anything different from what we were seeing on the tour so far anyway. It’s better if we just find Nicol while it’s still early.” she stammered, quietly.

At this, Niely deflated. Whilst the timing of her outburst suggested Tita’s quiet admonishment of her as its root cause, its severity made the reality of her displeasure immediately obvious to the women.

Met on all fronts with disapproval from those that she was supposed to be directed, a certain amount of petulant sulking was to be expected.

“Ughhhhhhh…” Niely exhaled, frame slumping forward into a remorseful hang towards the ground. “You girls sure know how to make someone feel stupid without actually saying it. I know that sticking around here doesn’t make much sense anymore, but would it have killed one of you to just disagree for my sake? I mean, come on…”

With this utterance, a degree of normalcy returned to the ‘air’ divided between the foursome. Shortly behind it, Tita and Asahi descended into fits of demure giggling whilst Julia exhaled in relief. Evidently no less invested in Niely’s opinion than they had been upon agreeing to leave with her, the willingness that she displayed in accepting that she was wrong allowed each of them to reframe their mutual circumstance as a misadventure soon to be forgotten.

Coincidentally, their doing so was validated only moments after their displays. Straightening her frame out of its depressed slump, Niely followed up her belly-aching with a firm step forward. This done, she raised her left hand away from her hips and pointed its index finger down at the stretch of hallway that they had traversed to arrive at this point.

“Anyway, whatever. If we’re going to get where we belong, we should try to get back to that central area from before. There should be at least one nurse around there who’s willing to help us.” she suggested. “I’m pretty sure it was that way, so let’s get going.”

Wordless in their agreement, the trio that she addressed began walking in the direction that she pointed out one after another. Having been almost certain that they would, Niely dropped her arm, then strode to her left to smoothly reintegrate herself amongst them as though the entire event had been choreographed beforehand.

Subsequently, the foursome’s journey began anew. Made jovial by their unified purpose, a revolving conversation incited by a teasing comment from Asahi towards Niely lightened the mood amongst them whilst Julia led the way towards their new destination. Soon unrecognizable as the group of bickering women that had taken up space within the hallway minutes prior, their presences acquired a looseness that suggested to the eye that they belonged within the facility in the same way that all of its other female visitors did.

Ordinarily, such a drastic shift in behaviour for adult women willing to behave as teenagers should have been impossible. Amending their mindsets and attempting to return to the group they had abandoned was a perfectly reasonable chain of events following the acceptance of their ignorance, but if anything, quiet frustration ought to have consumed their moods before endearing airiness ever touched them.

From the perspective of a third-party privy as to the nature of the facility surrounding them, such shifts were par for the course.

Within the Serin Facility existed a providence capable of anything and everything. From the accommodation of trivialities concerned with convincing adult women to separate themselves from a stable group (and convincing them that they were doing so of their own volition) to seeing to Julia unconsciously veering her guidance of the party off into a direction different from the one that Niely had pointed out, none of the goings-on within the facility’s confines sat beyond its ability to influence.

Once enacted, the quiet prompting of those it had targeted would continue until it amounted to something…

A ‘something’ that concerned the harmless child at its root.

-

**SERIN FACILITY—JUVENILE PEDIATRICS**

Listless yet effective, a loosely-dressed and coat-clad Hector Ledh stepped out of an elevator not as a medical professional, but as the ‘mother’ to a number of ducklings attached to him by his profession. Immediately striding out of the waiting area set ahead of him, his progression was purposed as a ‘standard’ for the four individuals that had accompanied him through the Serin Facility over the course of the preceding hour. Wordless in their awe at the makeup of the final floor of their tour, the men and women present functioned as preoccupied hanger-on(s) until the stoppage of Hector’s stride required that they recompose themselves.

Here, Hector turned, and waved his hand across the hallway space ahead of him as a butler exasperated with the mandates of their position.

“Here we are—our final stop. I shouldn’t have to say this, but if it isn’t clear, this floor makes up the ‘Juvenile Pediatrics’ ward of the facility. As its name implies, children aged 5-9 are housed here alongside less specialized surgical equipment used for developing bodies.” he explained.

“As you might imagine, this ward is also the largest within the facility. That may sound like a bad thing, but over 60% of our inpatients are transfers from other hospitals whose recovery times are vastly improved by the resources unique to the facility. Summarily, you can think of this floor as the baseline for the facility’s success.”

“I do most of my work here as well, but that’s irrelevant. If there are no pressing questions, I’ll be escorting you through it from top to bottom. Feel free to ask anything you’d like as we go along.

As had been the case for all four of the floors leading up to this one, Hector’s entreating the group for questions failed to reap a single inquiry from those present. Unaffected by this reality, he paused for a mere 5 seconds before turning back towards the pathway that fed into the floor expanse and taking his first step forward.

Awaiting him just beyond this step was Mirielia Truaste. Clad in one of the facility’s newly-mandated nurse uniforms (one that consisted of a set of three heart-shaped pasties coloured

a complimentary shade of peach pink), her presence demanded that he stop and address her lest his progression bring their fronts into contact with one another.

In the midst of attempting this, Elie greeted him faster than he could bring himself to greet her.

“Good afternoon, Dr.Ledh. I don’t mean to interrupt the tour, but there’s been a small incident that I thought it’d be better to inform you about sooner rather than later.” she began, calmly. “I don’t think it’s anything out of the ordinary, but since it involves a certain special little someone, you’d probably be a better judge of that than I would be.”

“If you’d like to go and have a look, I could take over the tour for now? I was kind of looking for something to do anyway.”

Words indicative of forward thought and toned to suggest a sisterly confidence, Hector very nearly missed the ‘urgency’ installed in her utterance in favor of dwelling on her candour. Quick to recognize the meaning behind her vagueness, he turned backwards to address the individuals behind him without so much as a word of greeting towards her.

“Well, for those of you who didn’t hear that, it’s been brought to my attention that there has been an incident with a patient that I need to look in on.” he began, grinning “I’m going to be handing the remainder of the tour over to Nurse Truaste for the time being. I’ll likely be back before the end of the tour, so if you end up having any questions that she can’t answer, you can hold them until then.”

Addressed for a second time in less than a minute, the tour group fell silent. Already without the wherewithal to place relevant questions, the occurrence of a medical emergency within a pediatric ward rendered them incapable of speaking out of turn. A pair of the individuals present did think their guide’s calmness to be somewhat jarring in the face of an incident demanding his attention, but as laymen, neither of them were so brazen as to speak out on this fact.

As a result, Hector was freed to separate himself from the group. In the wake of a short nod passed at Mirielia, he turned back towards the floor expanse and set off into a stride directed towards its left side.

Even in this, he remained unhurried.

There was no reason for him to be otherwise. In unique possession of an intimate familiarity with the patient that Mirielia had referenced and the condition that ailed him, a detailed picture of the incident had already taken shape within his mind. Per its contents, rushing to his bedside was unlikely to make any sort of ‘difference’ with regards to his comfort.

As such, he took his time. Traversing his chosen path in complete comfort, he used the free time he acquired throughout to inject further detail into the mental picture he had generated for the scenario.

For every few steps that he took, deductions that he produced added depth and variety to its canvas.

The tour group had shrunk in size.

Upon his departure, it had yet to return to normal.

Mirielia was neither concerned nor hurried in her description of what had transpired.

The facility had yet to descend into chaos.

Together, these conclusions formed a scene that Hector had laid eyes on countless times. Upon arrival opposite the door to his destination and throughout his slippage past it, his familiarity with this scene made the reality that he walked in on unimpressive by comparison.

Consumed between naked adult women engaged in a myriad of sexual activities ranging from the gargling of mouthfuls of semen to squirting steaming cuntsyrup onto his fingers was a smiling and sweaty Nicol. Conscious and attentive in spite of his circumstance, his appearance at the mouth of his door prompted the youth to sit upright in defiance of the lips smothered against his own and the breasts compressed against the left side of his face.

Upright, his attention turned to the utterance of a greeting.

“Hi, Dr.Ledh! Do you know these ladies?” he asked, happily. “They said that they were taking a tour through the facility and got lost or something. I’ve been keeping them company, though!”

“Is everything ok?”

To this, Hector smiled, and shook his head in an attempt at stifling laughter.

“Of course, Nicol.”

“Everything’s just fine.”


	5. Nicol Goes to School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In response to Nicol's progressive defiance of the rules established for his environment, Dr. Ledh develops a definitive experimental compromise intended to keep him occupied in a productive way. Against what he once believed to be conventional reason, a number of contrivances are used to enroll Nicol as a part-time public school student.
> 
> Now with a much more concrete grasp of his abilities and what they allow him to do, Nicol sets about finding new and inventive ways of draining loads of semen into the primarily-female teaching staff of the school from his first day there.
> 
> As you might imagine, how efficient he is at this results in several 'changes' consuming the school within a matter of days--all of which are wildly perverse.

**_Nicol — Patient Symptomatology & Rehabilitation Record #6_ **

__

_ -Maintained and authored by Dr. Hector Ledh, Senior Pediatric Specialist. To be deleted at his discretion. _

_ This record holds very little actual content. My writing anything in here at all likely suggests otherwise, but there is nothing written here that is directly related to Nicol, his condition, or his recovery. It is, essentially, my writing for the sake of writing so as to not invite slackness into my preparation and maintenance of these records. _

_ I assure that nothing catastrophic has occurred. The general theme of these records is usually restricted to the occurrence of problems and the development of their solutions, but that is not the case for this one. Were it, I would not take such an obtuse approach to introducing the issue and moving through its contents with you.  _

_ For the past several weeks, Nicol has spent less than a third of his days inside the Serin Facility. After the incidents that occurred this summer, I thought it prudent to develop a means of letting him spread his wings without drawing undue suspicion towards his recovery. I succeeded in this, but for the moment, I am not at liberty to say how or document any of its results in one of these logs. _

_ This being the case, I have decided instead to detail how his absence has affected the facility at large. In lieu of something more interesting to discuss, it may provide you with grounds to make your own predictions for our futures. _

_ With the exception of the incident last summer, this has been the freest I’ve been in some time. Being able to approach my work without keeping Nicol as close to the forefront of my mind as he usually is has been refreshing so far. I’ll admit that the issues that other children face are not quite as time intense or ‘interesting’ as those that surround him—at this point, I do not believe I need to explain why. _

_ Nevertheless, the value in treating them is just as significant. I began working at the Serin Facility with the intention of helping children. Nicol’s arrival never once resulted in my shirking my broader responsibilities to focus on his treatment—I made certain of this from the outset. All the same, doing it like this has felt somehow different than what I managed prior. _

_   
  
_

_ Perhaps it’s just my imagination. _

_ I am not the only person who has benefitted slightly from his absence. Much to their chagrin, Nicol’s not being present within the facility 24 hours a day has allowed for the ever-growing number of nurses and in-patients he spends time with to devote themselves to other endeavors. None of them seem to recognize the fact that they are enduring a form of biological withdrawal, but all of them are coping with it as relatively grounded ‘guardians’ recently subjected to the absence of their ward. Their productivity hasn’t gone done, and by some bizarre miracle that I cannot quantify, none of them have taken it upon themselves to go and visit him (yet). My initial assumption was that much more concrete boundaries would need to have been established to keep them apart, but it seems that what little time he spends within the facility is ‘enough’ for them to accept his absence—at least in the cases wherein they do not have to compete with one another for time with him. _

_ As you might have gathered, the changes imposed on their patterns has only had a positive effect on the facility and its programs. As Nicol isn’t present to distract them for 2/3rds of the day, the nurses’ ability to properly distribute their time and energy whilst on shift has seen marked improvement.  _

_ Separately, the patients from St. Ulsters have begun putting even more effort into their respective rehabilitation programs. To put that into perspective, I mentioned months prior that the strides that they have made were extremely significant. Relative to their earlier pace, both Elie and Angelina have managed to maintain a focus sufficient for their psychologists to suggest formal discharge and occasional counselling for them in the future. While I doubt that either of them will be able to stay away from the hospital even after their discharge, it brings me a certain amount of joy to know that their interactions with Nicol contributed to this in part. _ _   
  
_

_ Overall, the experience has been a reassuring snapshot of the future that I so often theorize about in these records—the future wherein Nicol leaves this facility for good, and those within it resume living lives rooted in a semblance of normalcy. Based on their reactions thus far, it’s likely that this normalcy will need to include Nicol to a certain extent in order for these individuals to feel comfortable with it.  _

_ I still cannot say for certain that it will be possible for them. Still, relative to their not being able to make any progress whatsoever, I think that this is a desirable outcome in its own way. _

_ To touch upon a different subject, my choosing to write on the goings on within the facility was a decision made with respects to my volition and necessity. At present, detailed logs concerning Nicol’s behaviour whilst outside of the facility are being prepared on my behalf, but I must first go through the task of cross referencing their contents with reports from those supervising them before I can go through their contents here. As I’m sure you’re aware, it is very difficult to get an honest report about Nicol’s behaviour from anyone that he interacts with. Getting the general sense of what he does and who he does it with isn’t difficult if I petition the right person, but again, reading between the lines of what is reported is necessary for this. _

_ Reading through this, I feel as though my describing all of this “nothing” to you all has likely left you with more questions than comfort. Again, I assure you that nothing of value has come to pass. When I receive my reports at the end of the month, I will detail my perspective on them in the same way I have before. _

_ If these assurances do not enhance the veracity of my statements, consider as well the fact that these reports will be packed with interactional and exposure-related information concerning Nicol that I have yet to detail to this point, and if all goes to plan, a foundation for predicting how Nicol will develop self-management strategies moving forward. _

_ To close what has been several hundred words of purposeless rambling on my part, I will state that the present has thus far proven many of my assumptions about Nicol to be correct. If this were not the case, the solutions that I devised for his outings and the resources that I required to realize them would never have been availed to me in the first place. _

_ In my opinion, this should not be taken as a form of positive result, but rather as an example of the way that his condition effects the world around him— _

_ Shortly, the only individuals who stand to lose anything from his existence at present are those who are capable of recognizing the control he exerts over others. _

  
  


_ Myself not included. _

-

**_CREATIVE CONTROL_ **

Due in part to the ‘administrative handling’ provided by its newly appointed financial director, the funding increase bestowed onto the Serin Facility by the city of Tolia facilitated the development of several auxiliary programs directed toward improving the recuperative experiences of its juvenile patients. Initially planned as a series of idealistic afterthoughts, the surplus of funds left over following the completion of the medical studies and internal upgrades planned for the facility remained sufficient to see many of these ideas finalized, and eventually enacted.

Having come from a number of medical professionals with pediatric backgrounds, these auxiliary programs focused on aspects of juvenile development often neglected throughout a child’s stay within a long-term care facility. Some concerning safe, health-conscious physical activities and others pertaining to regular motivational presentations by pop culture figures ‘relevant’ amongst growing children, their contents were built around experiences and activities thought limited to the world outside of the average medical facility. Through them, the growth of long-term inpatients was to be spared stunting, and children fortunate enough to enjoy short stays within the facility were to leave its confines no less comfortable with the outside world than they had been prior.

To the surprise of precisely no one, the most ambitious of these programs was devised and executed by Dr. Hector Ledh. Evidently buoyed by the findings of his study months prior, notification of the existing program surplus prompted him to present an idea concerning ‘in-person education’ he had shelved as infeasible to the facility’s administration.

According to him, one of very few resources not provided to in-patients within the Serin Facility was access to normalized social interactions with other children school-aged children within their natural environment. Though the facility’s existence was predicated on the provision of stellar medical care to children, the provision of educational and rehabilitative experiences necessary for these children to re-enter society were argued by him as a natural extension of this care that the Serin Facility was uniquely positioned to provide.

Using the successful interactions his foremost patient had shared with the foursome of young women he had enlisted for his prior medical study as an example, he suggested that allowing in-patients with particularly manageable afflictions to receive short stints of public education at local schools was likely to do more good for them than harm. By beginning with a test group of only three children and outfitting each of them with 1-2 educational specialists seasoned in supporting uniquely-circumstanced children, the variables inherent to the venture could be controlled, and the same level of ‘comfort’ enjoyed by each of the children that persisted within the facility could be extended to them whilst attending school.

Much like his last idea, the program foundation presented by Dr. Ledh was viewed favourably by those in control of the facility. Following Bella Helias’ personally ‘vouching’ for its feasibility and the selection of an administrative representative to be informed of the program’s progression throughout its execution, the program itself was approved, and full control over its handling was handed down to Dr. Ledh for reasons related to ‘smoothness’ and ‘familiarity’.

Throughout the weeks that followed, the speed at which the program came together suggested to most within the facility that Dr. Ledh had presented his idea under the assumption that it was certain to be approved. Within a week, the parents of handpicked in-patients from each of the facility’s age-groups were sent detailed information packages concerning the program and its aim. On the very same day that these packages arrived, each of them received personal phone calls from one of the many endearing members of the Serin Facility's nursing staff intended to resolve any questions or concerns they might have about its inner workings.

In all three cases, these phone calls yielded immediate consent to the program. As if having predicted this as well, the days most immediate to these phone calls saw Dr. Ledh embark on several ‘presentation trips’ to potential schools in hopes of securing their participation. Equipped with significant sums of ‘motivation’ with which to argue his case, the first three of these trips resulted in his acquiring the full support of three of the largest and most modernized elementary schools within the city. 

By virtue of these successes, all of the preparation required for the program’s initial run was completed within the space of a month and a half: the exact period of time required to project potential ‘start dates’ that coincided with the beginning of the school year for regular children.

Onlookers for Dr. Ledh’s efforts presumed the speed of his work to be a consequence of his desire to acquire these start dates for his program. For them, these presumptions were tantamount to reality; doctor, nurse, or otherwise, none of these individuals dared to challenge the extent of his preoccupation with the Serin Facility and the program’s construction to speak to him personally about the subject. Doing so was the furthest thing from a death sentence (this indicated by the existence of a nursing team that directly interacted with him on a regular basis), but for one reason or another, those interested in the program found themselves without the motivation to press the man at its helm for specifics.

Had they, the especially intrepid among them may’ve caught wind of an interesting pattern concerned with its construction.

For the second time in as many ventures, Nicol ______ was selected as one of the program’s initial three participants. While ‘predictable’ in the sense that Dr. Ledh’s direct supervision of his treatment marked him as a child whose parents could be easily convinced for participation, the circumstances contrived for his time at school remained those that one might raise an eyebrow at…presuming they maintained the ability to do so.

Yet again, the educational specialists tasked with smoothing Nicol’s re-entry into school were adult women notable as being longterm figures within their respective fields. Unfairly voluptuous and uniquely dispositioned, many of their qualities (save one in particular) seemed to match those maintained by most all of the other women purposefully placed in Nicol’s presence.

As the program’s start date neared, these patterns went unrecognized, and their implications largely ignored in favor of the application of additional focus on what Dr. Ledh’s program might reap—

Not solely for the Serin Facility, but for the children that were to inhabit it for years to come…

-

**SEPTEMBER 12** **TH** **TOLIA CITY— LENT DISTRICT**

Several minutes into his first car ride in years, Nicol _____ found himself unable to draw his line of sight away from the passenger window to his left. From his fastening into the car that maintained it up to the current ‘stage’ of his journey within it, all of his attention was consumed in observation of the sun-kissed landmarks and suburban individuals of the world that existed behind it.

In spite of the distress he endured for his distraction, his being reduced to a state of boyish marvelling by something as simple as the “moving world” presented from inside of a moving vehicle was among the most harmless states he could’ve endured. Given repeated exposure to the experience of travelling by car and the acquisition of familiarity with the confines of the city, his focus would naturally drift away from the outside world and back into his complete control…at least until a similarly ‘novel’ landscape was presented outside of the car.

Of course, being a child yet without a wealth of knowledge as to the inner workings of the human mind, Nicol worried about his circumstance all the same.

It was not his inability to control himself that concerned him, however. Happily taken up with the world outside the car, his sole concern on the subject pertained to his ‘missing out’ on the full experience of having the full length of his cock skewered in and out of the seasoned throat and oral cavity of one of the women that would be accompanying him to school.

Several minutes prior to departing from the Serin Facility for his first day of public education, Stretta Stories and Rosaline Greggor were introduced to him as the individuals responsible for looking after him while he learned. Then, his attending physician had assured him of their talents, and had quietly requested that he take advantage of their presences as best as he could whilst at school.

Whilst attempting to take this message to heart, the sight of the women aroused his frame in a manner that his time within the Serin Facility had yet to replicate. Both several years older than the eldest woman of those he had become familiar with (and yet somehow no less appealing physically), their presences reminded him of what he imagined it might feel like to face one’s grandmother and mother simultaneously.

Needless to say, the imposition of this feeling did not stop him from ogling both women as he pleased. Whereas Stretta was the taller of the two at nearly 5 feet and 11 inches in height, Rosaline’s 5 foot 7 inch stature struck him as being far more appropriate for a ‘grandparent-aged’ woman. Conversely, the low-set bun of grey-infused black hair that Stretta owned relative to the faded, grey-blue braided ponytail (a bust-length extension of braided hair that lead out from a modestly-arranged head of similarly-colored locks) was to him more emblematic of qualities that a grandmother ought to maintain.

With the exception of these two features, what ubiquity could be seen in their matronly frames was exceedingly appealing to him. With the exclusions of their facial structures and the placement of the less-obvious wrinkles that had sunk into their visages, a great deal of succulent youth and fertility remained visible in their figures.

If slightly, Stretta’s presentation of these qualities was the most blatant of the two. Somehow packaged into front of the white, long-sleeve blouse she had selected for her first day on the job were deeply sloped and inexplicably rounded and perky G-Cup breasts whose bloat reminded Nicol of those maintained by (one of the girls). Both fat enough and round enough to stress the buttons of her blouse whilst simultaneously pushing its fabric away from complementation by the soft-grey cardigan hung over her shoulders, the fact that their sizing (and Stretta’s apparent age) did not result in their sagging further down towards her midsection—or at least more so than they already were—was processed by Nicol’s mind as an acceptable oddity.

Given the shape of the rest of her frame, her maintaining such engorged sacs of perky breast flesh was not especially surprising. Below her breasts was a midsection that maintained a modest layer of fat, hips whose width (a measurement that made the waistline of her pencil skirt appear as though it was spread by a crescent moon of curvature and bone structure) projected feminine ideals even from underneath the fabric that covered them, and doughy, toneless, torso-girth thighs whose lack of definition nevertheless presented a squishy, all-too-alluring visual appeal.

As a matter of course, Stretta’s appearance rendered Rosaline’s as almost commonplace from his perspective. Though the mammoth, H-Cup watermelons that bloated the fabric of her cream turtle neck attempted to convince him otherwise, their obese, fatty buoyancy seemed much more reasonable when set next to a pair of breasts comparable to them. As well, the sight of Rosaline’s fabric-smothered thighs as pressed into the pale-blue denim of capri jeans—limb sections packed with fat to the point at which their doughy texture was conveyed through the material covering them—were far less shocking after having taken in the sight of similarly wobbly tree trunks seconds prior.

Appropriately, the ease with which Nicol digested the appearances of his caretakers held no bearing on his body’s response to them. Silent throughout their walk to the vehicle set aside for their departure, a quiet acceleration of his heart rate fed into a swelling of his cock underneath his hospital gown, and soon enough, a tightening of his hands’ grasp on the feminine palms that the women offered to him before they began walking.

Throughout, he imagined what he might do with the kind old women given the chance. Initially intent on delaying these activities in favor of beginning his first day at school properly, their arrival at the car coincided with yet another slanting of reality in his favor.

Whilst Rosaline released his hand to begin moving towards the driver’s side of the car, Stretta opened the passenger side door nearest to them and peered down at him to speak.

_ “My, that’s reassuring to see. With all of the pretty young ladies around you, I had thought that you wouldn’t have any interest in women like us.” _

__

_ “Seeing as that’s not the case, let’s make sure you’re nice and relaxed in time for your first day at school, hm? We’ll always be here to help relieve you if you need it, but I think you’ll be a lot calmer with the other kids if you clog my throat with your stinking cockjuice for a little while first, don’t you  _ ♥ _?” _

From these words was birthed a circumstance that Nicol had assumed to be potent enough to hold his attention until his arrival at school. After Stretta’s affectionate ushering of his frame into the backseat of the car, her entrance behind him drew her frame across the car's backseat into a downward plunge towards the tented crotch of his hospital gown. By the time their journey began, her dominant hand had enveloped his throbbing cudgel’s root, and her skull had surged inwards to plant, and subsequently part her lips around the masculine(y)-scented girth of his glans.

The throating that followed could have devoured the mind of a lesser child within seconds. Indifferent to her suitor’s tininess and the possible reality of his sexual inexperience, she squarely depressed her lips along the girth of his cock until they were delivered into a flesh-depressing kiss against the hairless expanse of his crotch. Throughout, she allowed all of the saliva welled up within her oral cavity to descend across his flesh, and applied a mixture of wriggling and swiping motions with her tongue to see the substance ‘evenly’ applied to the vascular spire’s exterior. Then, moments past welcoming the beginnings of his cock past her throat without any sort of reaction, its descent into the upper fringes of her esophagus—an event that coincided with her lips’ slotting at the root of his cock—saw her contract the back of her throat and simultaneously intensify the suction she applied on the root of his cock.

Moments later, she wrenched her skull upwards to draw her student’s erection through a vacuum of spittle and writhing flesh, then punched herself back downwards to initiate a starved jackhammering of her mouth along the entirety of his length. Particular in the glans-height stopping point she selected for her ascent, the punching descent that she produced returned the most sensitive inches of his member into her throat and esophagus whilst a mucus-mired *PLORP!* was forced out into the narrow airspace of the car’s backseat.

The jackhammering that followed was as effective as it was whorish. Having plunged her lips down along Nicol’s cock after leaning towards his lap from his left, the spreading of her throat with its meat presented a number of unique opportunities for the final ‘shape’ that her metronome could take on. Particularly notable amongst these was the depression of her tongue’s face along the left side of his shaft, and after this, the horizontal skewering of her digestive track’s beginnings.

From the first pump of her skull, Stretta took full advantage of these opportunities. Whilst messily dragging Nicol’s cock out from its side-wise hilt down her throat, she intentionally manipulated her throat to impress its congealed, innard-warmed meat against his glans as a circular garbage compactor. Specifically, though only a handful of his inches were depressed into these squirming depths to begin with (her throat relative to the rest of her oral cavity), passage through them was made as grating and pleasurable an experience as unrooting one’s member from an entirely different orifice of congealed, sex-fattened flesh.

In their own way, the downward plunges that she produced imposed a similar sort of ‘feel’ on Nicol’s shaft. At the peak of his member, Stretta pushed milky-white mucus and throatslop churned to fruition by Nicol’s cock out of her mouth and down through a mudslide-esque tumble along the front face and underside of his member. Exposed for only an instant, the speed at which she punched the entirety of his 8-inch pike back into her gullet and the smooth, slop-greased ease with which she managed the feat made the release of this slimy lubrication appear far more important than it was in reality. With or without it, Stretta’s desire to engorge her oral-cavity with Nicol’s cockflesh whilst teasing its squishy veins with her mucus-glazed thoratflesh was such that she’d have pushed herself to make her facefucking appear famished and vehemant no matter the shape of her circumstance.

As her circumstance was particularly forgiving, what fractions of her ministrations  _ stood to _ benefit most from the injection of additional effort were instead altered with respect to her personal definition of ‘fun’. Upon completion of any one of her innumerable plunges, Stretta supplemented the vigorous *SHLRSH* noises created as she skewered her sex-creased oral-cavity full of cockmeat with an intentional spluttering of fresh spittle against the root of his member. Indifferent to her cheeks’ and nostrils’ impression around the root of his shaft, she with this worsened the gunking of his erection’s root to milkier extremes, and at the same time imposed a balmy ‘swamped’ sensation on the lip-smothered base of his cock as a complement to his spire’s entrapment within the pulsing embrace of her gullet.

To her, subjecting herself to the former circumstance and providing Nicol with the latter qualified as ‘fun’ for her…

An amount well short of enough fun to satisfy her, but a ‘start’ that was likely to earn her favor with the boy that she was servicing.

Soon after setting about the rapid-fire bobbing of her skull in earnest, Stretta steadily adjusted her approach in a manner that she deemed to be more challenging and effective. Whilst her downward spikes were progressively complemented by clockwise rotations of her tongue around the increasingly mucus-glazed girth of Nicol’s cock, the retractions of her skull imposed additional tightness and suction onto his throat-worn length via a spreading of her lips around its meat as a vacuum and her dutifully slurping at it like a straw. 

And yet, Nicol still couldn’t focus.

In spite of all she had accomplished throughout her throating, Nicol’s attention remained elsewhere minutes into her efforts. He remained painfully aware of all of the spine-tingling sensations that were squeezed up and down along his shaft, but overall, their combination failed to enamour him in the same way the scenery of the outside world did.

If somewhat unfortunate from an objective standpoint, Nicol’s viewing the situation as a starry-eyed youth dedicated to creating a certain amount of ‘happiness’ whilst approaching his own desires inflated his perception of the problem’s proportion to an inappropriate extent. At his core, he began to worry that the fact that one of his first interactions with Stretta had ended up as it had might suggest to the near-elderly woman that he did not enjoy her company, or worse still, that her perverse talents were not something that he appreciated.

Being a child, the ‘bigger picture’ of the event was a sight denied to him for a lack of experience.

In reality, his inability to truly invest himself in Stretta’s milking of his length had no bearing on her execution of it. Having suggested that she milk Nicol’s cock of her own volition, the fulfillment that Stretta acquired from the act prevented her from noticing the fact that she had yet to capture the entirety of the boy’s attention. Were she to, this fact was unlikely to bother her as well. Since meeting him less than an hour prior, she had become of the opinion that selfless dedication was not merely something that he  _ needed  _ from her, but something that he  **deserved** . If expressing this dedication required her to messily throat his member whilst he directed his attention elsewhere, this was precisely what she would do.

In the first place, her consumption by the task of bouncing her lips off of the root of his cock was such that the thought of Nicol not paying attention never crossed her mind. Devoted to counting the adorable throbs that rippled through the modest assortment of veins strewn out across his member’s exterior whilst ensuring that each throat-fattening plunge and pressurized grind that she produced was as effective as the last, most everything unrelated to these things slipped her mind entirely.

From the pair’s mutual preoccupation was born a perfect ‘time-killer’ for the car ride’s duration. As neither of them could bring themselves to turn away from the activities they had selected for even a moment, both of them failed to attend to the progressive shortening of the distance that separated them from their destination. Whereas Nicol continued to bend his arousal-flushed visage towards the window at his side, Stretta unconsciously intensified the sloppiness and noisiness of her throating on a second by second basis.

Left alone, the nature of their circumstance would see both of these activities brought to an end in due time. As it turned out, however, ‘due time’ was not a resource that either of them had access to. After several minutes of self-indulgence, the amount of time that remained for them was announced by the only individual within the car who maintained a realistic sense of time.

Fortunately, this woman was one completely indifferent to the fact that a child’s erection was being milked within the backseat of the car that she was driving.

“Wow, it’s certainly gotten noisy back there!” Rosaline exhaled, voice intensified to allow for its quality to seep into the back half of the car. “It’s wonderful that you two are getting to know each other so well, but we’ll probably be arriving at the school within the next few minutes. I don’t know if it is possible, but I think it would be best if you ended this quickly this time, Stretta—”

“Oh, dear me. You’re the last person I need to remind about things like that, aren’t you? I’m sorry; I’ve been awfully forgetful these past few days…”

“I’ll just leave you to it  ♥ .”

No part of Rosaline’s deduction could be argued as being ‘off base’. Even whilst completely consumed in the task of spearing quivering cockflesh though repeated, semen-draining compressions down her throat, Stretta never once lost track of the amount of time and effort that separated her from Nicol’s orgasm. Nevertheless, the reminder that Rosaline produced served as an ideal ‘signal’ for her to begin shaping her ministrations with regard to this.

Immediately after it hit her ears, she ceased pulling her punches. First looping her left hand ahead of her into contact with the slop-greased satchel of testicles at the base of Nicol’s cock, its arrival saw her press the face of her index and middle fingers against his balls’ exterior with just enough pressure to begin coaxing their contents towards ejection.

Upon production, the gesture accomplished far more than this. Whilst the payload of nut stockpiled at the root of Nicol’s cock swelled, its owner’s attention drawn down to the event’s ‘cause’—

All of a sudden, Nicol began attending to the draining of his length with a vested interest in how it might actually be executed.

Ignorant to this transition, Stretta’s attention remained on her task. Following the placement of her left hand (and the outburst of needy throbs that it conducted through Nicol’s cock), she turned the pumping of her throat along his meat into a senseless spiking of her lips from his shaft’s root to its midsection. Paying no mind to the splatter of throatslop against her cheeks and the repeated goring of her throat’s depths with the beginnings of his cock, she prioritized ‘stroking’ his meat with the bulbous depths of her gullet as quickly and aggressively as she could over the execution of a more ‘modest-seeming’ metronome.

Practiced in her craft, the rewards that she reaped from this did not come as a surprise to her. Whilst strained mewls of pleasure began streaming from the throat of the boy above her, the frequency at which blurts of precum exploded from the tip of his cock increased, and the wriggling of the urethra flesh bisecting his shaft became more pronounced. Conveyed to her senses incrementally as a result of the speed of her pumping, the meaning behind them proved forgettable relative to the ‘end’ that undoubtedly sat ahead of them.

When it arrived, she was ready for it. Without a moment’s notice, all of the throbbing and wriggling projected through Nicol’s length culminated in a strand of congested, murky-white cockjuice bursting through it up to an esophagus-glazing flourish down through her gullet. Heavily-pressurized and very nearly scalding in temperature, its drizzling out across the depths of her esophagus prompted her to bring her latest plunge along his shaft to an immediate end, and afterwards brace herself to take the full volume of his orgasm down into the depths of her stomach.

Much to her surprise, doing so was not nearly as straightforward as she had presumed it would be. Behind the first, similarly bloated strands of greasy, almost-gelatinous cockslime erupted from the nose of Nicol’s cock in direct sequence with each other. Somehow bulbous in fractions in spite of their texture firmly aligning them with the likes of a sludge or slime, the virile muck immediately challenged her depths to begin swallowing the contents of each strand straight down into her stomach. But, as each ejection was tantamount to a dousing of blubbery, sperm-riddled glue-plaster into her digestive tract, doing so failed to push their entireties directly into her stomach. For every telling *GLORP* produced as she rolled squirming boluses of cockjuice into her gut, layered smears of the substance were left spread across the depths of her esophagus in varying positions and lengths.

Undaunted, Stretta kept pace with Nicol’s release all the same. Quieting the squirming of his crotch with a consistent rolling of her finger tips against the exterior of his testicles, she repeatedly swallowed down each of the pungent semen strands that wriggled their way through his length as though the nutrients that the substance contained were of importance to her.

When especially portly strands resulted in backdrafts of the muddy glue blurting out of her nose, she endured. Later, when the warming of her stomach with a miniature basin of semen induced the slightest hints of nausea within her, she disregarded these as a natural ‘price’ to be paid for Nicol’s stimulation. Until every dense wad of seed contained within the boy’s length was fished from the root of his cock into a gross tumble down her throat, she maintained all of her initial patterns to the very best of her ability.

Like this, the stoppage of the car minutes after the beginning of Nicol’s release was made to coincide with his release. Convinced of her successes by the disappearance of his member’s throbbing, Stretta steadily dragged her lips up from their vicegrip impression around the root of Nicol’s cock to a needlessly concentrated suckle against its tip. Lingering here long enough to complete several rotations of her tongue around his beestung glans amidst a dedicated sucking of what semen persisted in clogging the nose of his urethra, her completion of these tasks ended with a moist popping of her lips off of his cock, and a slow repositioning of her frame into an upright seated position to Nicol’s left.

From here, the effectiveness of her efforts was conveyed to her in full. While very clearly conscious and aware, the Nicol that she laid eyes on once upright was a sweaty, bleary-eyed, smiling version of the reserved boy whose hand she had taken within the Serin Facility—

In short, he was everything that she wanted him to be and more.

In her elation, she again leaned inward towards his frame to unfasten his seatbelt. 

As she did so, the happiness that had bloomed within her dominated her tone, and ensured that the face that she presented to the boy was among her most loving expressions yet.

“My, so much energy  ♥ . I remember when I was that excited to go to school  ♥ ~.” she exhaled, breathily. “You should be much more comfortable now, so if you’re ready, let’s not keep the nice people at the school waiting, ok Nicol?”

“This is your big day, after all.”

Dazed, yet very far from complete debilitation, Nicol met the older woman’s utterance with a rehabilitative shake of his head, and a juvenile nod moments later.

Whereas the sight of him may’ve suggested otherwise, his excitement at the prospect of going to school sat unchanged by the innard warming euphoria Stretta had provided him with...

Nothing could stop him from attending--not even the sudden liquefaction of his legs.

-

  
  


**THE MODIFICATION OF GREGG DANIELS ELEMENTARY SCHOOL**

When first the principal of Gregg Daniels Elementary School accepted a lump sum of financial funding in return for welcoming a student-aged in-patient into the school for a weeks-long education program, her expectations as to what this student might require in order to be comfortable and the amount of effort his accommodation would require of her staff were fairly low. 

At the outset, she had little reason to believe otherwise. To begin with, the child was a long-term in-patient within the Serin Facility—a medical establishment renowned for their management of children with particularly troublesome and unique conditions. As a candidate selected by a knowledge and risk averse collective of specialists, the odds of his affliction being one that demanded consistent attention were slim. After all, a child too preoccupied with faults in their health could not be expected to derive much from education. Separately, the fact that he was to be supported throughout by two seasoned educators handpicked by the facility suggested that whatever ‘effort’ was ultimately required of the school would focus more so on his education than anything else. In short, the management of his presence was unlikely to be very different from the management of any of the other uniquely-circumstanced students who already attended the school.

Days before his arrival, the perspective that she maintained shifted. After receiving several boxes of ‘clothing’ from the Serin Facility and perusing their contents for something—anything that might that a sane person might deem to be school-appropriate, the necessity of the garments and the nature of the child that somehow required them became concerning to her. Careful to conceal the make of these outfits from her staff members lest several different employment unions be called in protest of her accepting the boy in the first place, she quietly contacted the Serin Facility on her own time to question the arrangement’s validity and protest against its execution.

This inquiry (and those that she launched on the days that followed) were met with calm disinterest by the clerical staff of the Serin Facility. Denied the opportunity to schedule a meeting or phone call with one of its senior administrators for days on end, the principal’s discomfort with the arrangement was eventually stoked to an extent that necessitated action over the traversal of ‘proper channels’. On the day that the child was to arrive, she absconded from her post at the helm of the school and made for the Serin Facility with the intention of turning the entire arrangement on its head.

Earned from her secrecy was the initiation of a very strange day for the staff of her school. Without knowledge of anything that had come to pass, the pair of teachers assigned to welcome the school’s newest student at the front entrance were shocked twice by a sequence of three events. 

Initially, both women swallowed the mild discomfort incited within them by the fact that the facility had deemed a sky-blue hospital gown as appropriate clothing for school. Once introduced to Nicol and convinced of his comfort, the two of them turned a blind eye to the oddity so as to focus on the fulfillment of their responsibilities.

When asked by reality to do so a second time, both of them refused by reflex. Whilst leading him and his support staff towards the school’s office, his position between the near-elderly women and his hands depression into the meat of their asses as they walked rendered the odd glances that they passed back at the trio a stomach-tightening, cold-sweat inducing experience that neither one wished to repeat.

After arriving within the school’s office and notifying its secretaries to contact the principal, the smiling disregard that the boy displayed in climbing atop the lap of one of his seated supporters and burying his face into the clothed plush of their ample breasts should have turned their discomfort into a blatant hysteria.

Instead, though, it drew indifferent smiles across their faces, and prompted each of them to depart from the office back towards the classrooms that they had departed from. 

Inexplicably and instantaneously, Nicol’s behavior—his very existence became completely commonplace for them. Dispossessed of a reason to remain in his presence (however much they wished to), returning to their work in wait for a more natural opportunity to interact with him became their sole recourse as employees of the school.

As planned, this left the task of informing Nicol’s party as to the structure of his first day to the office’s secretaries. Equally ‘taken’ with Nicol’s presence within a minute or so of his arrival, the woman that remained within the trio’s presence to allow for her co-worker to see about the principal’s whereabouts immediately abandoned her desk in favor of a standing position adjacent to Nicol’s front.

Here, she did her utmost to appear as inviting and invested as the older women surrounding him, and calmly passed the time with them via conversation, and where possible, the delivery of kisses against the edges of Nicol’s forehead.

Upon her companion's return from the back half of the office, the morning of oddities for the school and its staff continued in earnest.

“I’m sorry about the wait—I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t in one of the copyrooms or something…” beginning nervously, the bespectacled blonde that steppes into the office’s front raised her voice to a volume that made the ‘results’ of her search clear well before she actually uttered them. 

Intent on delivering them nonetheless, she hurriedly strode her way up to her co-worker’s side whilst delivering the bad news she had taken up for herself.

“It looks like Ms. Ladia isn’t back yet. She stepped out about an hour or so before you arrived, but she sometimes goes out to buy coffee for everyone in the office when she finds time in between her admin work.” she explained. “I really don’t know what to say—Milly, did she say anything to you before she left?”

Addressed, Milly pulled herself upright from her latest descent towards a ‘level’ speaking position with Nicol, then pruned at the messy excess of straight black hair draped over her skull. In the process, she exposed a youthful paleness that her hair had initially obscured, and made the concern that crept into her smiling features that much more ‘apparent’ as a result.

“No, nothing at all. I thought she had gone out for coffee as well; it’s not very like her for her to go out on long trips without telling at least one of us.” she replied, naturally. 

Abruptly made to recall the fact that she was in the presence of individuals whom required her escort, Milly turned her standing position towards the seated trio ahead of her to ensure that each of them received some amount of eye-contact with her.

This done, she took up some of the situational pressure left to sit on her co-worker’s shoulder by continuing to speak in her place.

“The thing is, it was Ms. Laida who told us to be ready to receive you three today. Purei and I knew that we’d need to accommodate you here, but she didn’t really give us much more information than that.” she continued. “Usually she likes to handle everything to do with new students herself until the time comes to pass them off to one of the teachers. Knowing her, most of Nicol’s information is probably in the student directory already—that’s my bet, anyway.”

“It’s fine, though. There’s no way anyone here would let Nicol’s first day go to waste just because she isn’t here. If the information is in place, we should be able to get started on our own.”

In this utterance was a confident conviction whose ‘effect’ was borderline inappropriate for the soft-spoken secretary it had come from. Behind it, Milly passed a knowing glance to Purei, and afterwards bent downwards at her waist to set her features near parity with Nicol’s.

Here, she beamed warmth directly at the boy’s face with the most endearing smile that she could muster—all whilst the make of her V-necked blouse teased the pale bloat of her cleavage from its peak.

“What do you think, Nicol? Does that sound like fun to you?” Milly asked, sweetly.

Long since coaxed from out his face first nuzzle against Rosaline’s breasts, Milly’s suggestion found a lap-set Nicol seated with his back propped up against the warmth of her front. Thus far attentive in monitoring what appeared to be a disruption of the plans made in preparation for his arrival, his silence throughout the conversations that had led up to Milly’s offer stemmed from his attempting to process what the best plan of action for him actually was.

Evidently without further time to think his way through things, Milly’s prompt dragged his opinions on the subject from his mouth as a starving fish baited to a grub-laden hook.

“Sure, that’s okay! I remember how school works kinda, so I’ll be fine as long as I get shown where to go and stuff.” he replied, brightly. “That doesn’t matter a lot to me right now, though. I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt or anything, but no one here is wearing their uniform! I made sure to tell Dr. Ledh about what I thought would be nice, and he told me that everything got moved here okay and stuff…”

“Shouldn’t everyone get changed first? Or, y’know, at least the teacher ladies that I have to meet first?”

In the moment, neither Milly nor Purei could come up with an appropriate answer to Nicol’s questions. Initially unaware of the existence of any sort of ‘uniform’ concerned with the positions that they maintained, his making mention of them immediately left them under the assumption that they were mandatory aspects of their positions. After this transition, the ‘source’ of their confoundment was shifted towards the ‘what’ and ‘where’ of the uniforms as opposed to the question of their necessity.

Mutually without recourse, the first step towards the information that they sought was one taken out of desperation. Fresh from the office of the only woman capable of ameliorating their circumstance, Purei feigned knowledge as to the situation with an extension of her left hand into the air and an ‘O’-shaped parting of her lips.

“O-Oh, I forgot! T-The uniforms—that’s right!” she exclaimed, nervously. “I’m pretty sure I saw something that looked like them in Ms. Laida’s office!” 

In a display of certainty with regards to her claim, Purei plunged her right hand downward into a firm envelopment of Milly’s wrist, then turned to begin dragging her back towards the hallway leading into the office’s backmost room.

“H-Here, let’s go get changed, Milly!” she stammered, tone saturated with a fretful urgency. “W-We can send out an announcement about them through the intercom later; f-for now, we should focus on leading by example. Y-You know, “rules are rules” and all that, haha…”

Unattached to the idea of remaining within the front portion of the office by herself, Milly consented to Purei’s sudden attachment to her frame within steps of her retreat. Turning towards the back of the office several seconds later, her recognition of what their sudden retreat might’ve implied (this being ignorance and fear) goaded her into passing a glance of ‘apparent certainty’ back at Nicol’s party.

Disquietingly, her doing so revealed Rosaline and Stretta to be smiling, and Nicol in the midst of an innocent and approving wave goodbye.

“A-Alright, we’ll be back soon!”

Momentarily abandoned within the office’s front, Nicol’s nature framed the period of quiet that ensued as time for him to relax. At no point did it cross his mind that the requests he had placed with his physician had been forgotten; where Dr. Ledh was concerned, failure was an impossibility undeserving of even a spec of his attention. Instead, he wiggled himself deeper into the ‘seat’ he had taken up for himself and passed the time by daydreaming about what Milly and Purei might look like upon their return.

  
  
  


Several minutes later, the blind faith that Nicol invested into their departures was validated well beyond his expectations. Milly in front of Purei, the frantic pair that had disappeared into the heart of the office returned as calm, scantily-clad, and smiling versions of themselves. Traditional workwear replaced by ‘clothing’ better suited for streetwalking or the courting of an especially fetish-focused partner, the differing presentation of their frames and the arousal that he derived from them glued his eyes to their fronts throughout their approach, and widened the warm smile he had worn prior into one of measured awe.

Originally, viewing the clerical duo as distinct individuals had been somewhat difficult for him. Whereas his eyes very easily recognized Purei as a glasses-clad blonde owning a messy bun of hair and Milly as one in ownership of a face-obscuring sheet of back-length black hair, the nurse-fed lust at his core sat without the resources required to differentiate them.

Their selecting outfits from the handpicked sets he had prepared for the young women that surrounded him provided him with all of the resources that he required for this. Purei with her stocking and sleeve supplemented lingerie and Milly with a combination of bandaids presented as ‘equivalent’ to a bikini, the differences between the pair were burned into his mind right from the moment their fronts returned to his line of sight.

While inexplicable from the perspective of a layman, the quality of their appearances bound Nicol’s change in perspective within the realm of reality. 

In ownership of fat-laden, globe-scale breasts whose sizing sat between an E-Cup and an F-Cup, the oversized sweater that had covered Purei’s torso minutes prior did not do her feminine assets justice. Grasping their scale from underneath the black garment hadn’t been impossible, but relative to the amount of cleavage and breast flesh left exposed by the pink-white bikini-top affixed to her torso in the present, the appeal that the peach-colored dough-sacs maintained was far easier to digest.

The garment’s make sat at the root of this. Whilst a ‘/\’-shaped loop of dull-pink fabric secured its cups’ position at the face of her breasts, a similarly colored strand cleanly connected their base (the bikini top’s cups)—this resulting in the fabric biting into the fat of her breasts—to one another prior to rounding into a supportive brace at her back. 

  
  


On top of the accentuation earned from its miniature sizing and the wobbly fat content of the breasts that it contained, the fabric cups made to shoulder the responsibility of obscuring her nipples and areola from view failed this task by omission (). Evidently crafted from a material both comfortable and translucent, the bubblegum-pink areola and the succulent, bee-stung inverted nipples at their centres were left no less visible than the swathes of breast flesh surrounding them.

Expectedly, the crotch of the string bikini suckling to Purei’s lower body offered the same degree of presentation to the naked eye. At the base of a toned abdominal section devoid of extraneous muscles and loaded with feminine indentations, the ‘bottom’ to Purei’s outfit presented the plump, shaven-exterior of her lower lips through a veil of useless fabric. Secured via pink strands of fabric tied into bow-knots left to rest against the outer face of her thighs, a stage of flesh ideal for perusal by wandering eyes was maintained by its composition at all times.

Complimented by white, mid-thigh length stockings frilled at their ends by pink fabric and matching triceps-length gloves whose end points’ final inches were emblemized by decorative bows, the blatant presentation of Purei’s femininity was with these items ‘framed’ by a dainty girlishness more perverse than the outright exposure of her genitals ever could be.

Albeit in a far less complex manner, Milly's frame was memorable for similar reasons. Whilst more modest in terms of size, the D-cup breasts hung from her chest staked a backable claim to Nicol’s attention by virtue of their nakedness. In place of a bikini top or brassiere, the sole form of coverage that the sorely-ripened melons maintained were beige, square-shaped medical plasters whose width and weight perfectly obscured her areola from detection. 

In return, the rest of her jiggling breast flesh was displayed to the world at large without any propping or squeezing. Impressively perky in spite of their weight, and yet somehow also large enough to obscure the beginnings of Milly’s upper abdominals with their scale, the free-hanging teardrops seemed a compromise between the relative petite-ness of her frame and the vigorous femininity responsible for sculpting it.

Like her peer, Milly’s midsection was largely devoid of fat, and as a result displayed the framing offered by her obliques alongside the palm-shaped indentation visible at the peaks of her bow-curved hips. At the end of the suckable sluices of flesh that composed the ‘V’ of curvature surrounding her crotch, another beige plaster was tasked with obscuring the pudgy bloat of her lower lips. Unlike those set at her nipples, this one was wholly unsuited for the task it was selected for. No longer nor wider than a regulation band-aid, its impression along her slit left tantalizing, cutely-crafted loafs of arousal-fattened flesh to either side of it, and in doing so presented them as far more pronounced than they were in truth. Easily as one might argue in favor of its contributing to her decency, what it offered to Nicol’s eyes was further visual fuel for his recently-drained length to gorge itself on.

Overall, though, Milly’s appearance was no more to Nicol than icing on an already well-dressed cake. No matter where he trained his gaze on them, the female figures in front of him offered something that made his impending stint at school seem that much more exciting.

Perhaps as a result of this excitement (or perhaps something else entirely), Nicol did not invest much time into staring at the bodies presented to him. Convinced of their appeal after only a handful of seconds of visual masturbation, he abandoned the effort for a short hop from off of Rosaline’s lap and an inward stride towards them.

A year prior, these actions would have been a wobble and shuffle respectively. In the present, he experienced no anxiety whilst approaching his desires, and once close enough to them, indulged himself precisely as he saw fit.

Opposite the office space taken up by the perversely-dressed secretaries, he spread his arms away from his torso and fell towards them. Far more adept at falling than his apparent frailty might’ve implied, he with this propelled himself into a half-hug, half-face plant against the face of Milly’s and Purei’s thighs. Taking advantage of the lack of distance between them, he ‘caught’ his fall by looping his left arm around Milly’s left thigh and his right around Purei’s right. Weight sustained, he subsequently ushered the older women closer together until the limbs he had grasped were pressed close enough together for him to nuzzle his face into.

For another handful of seconds, he gave himself over to the dual-sided pillows of flesh as a child might sink into an oversized stuffed animal, and covertly memorized the sweet scents unique to the flesh that comprised them.

Then, he rose. As quickly as he descended, Nicol peeled his face from off of the thighs he had claimed and turned her line of sight upwards to smile at their owners.

Given the happiness sewn into his expression, predicting at least part of the utterance that left his lips after the fact was not especially difficult.

“Yup, you two definitely look much prettier like this!” he chirped, warmly. “I’m sure the rest of the teachers will too, but it’s getting kinda late now, right? Could you two please show me where my class is now? I’m really excited to start learning and stuff!”

“I think…”

In this address was all of the motivation that the pair required to escape from the pensive shells that Nicol’s eyes had trapped them within. Utterly unbothered by the fact that they had not only donned the outfits, but afterwards flaunted them for perusal by a child not even 10 years of age, they sequentially bent their knees to level themselves with his torso, and finally pressed an arm each across the span of his back one at a time.

Seemingly in sync, the upward hoist that they produced between one another saw Purei adopt the lead position in their embrace with a bunting of her breasts up against Nicol’s cheeks whilst Milly affectionately cupped the back of his skull with her freehand.

Presuming one did not know otherwise, the ‘air’ produced by their embrace of the boy’s frame was one that suggested Nicol belonged with them—

At least as much so as he did with the countless women that had come before then.

“Wow! Somebody’s eager to learn, huh?” Purei suggested, voice warmed by approving awe. “Sure, we can do that! Milly and I will have to get back to our work soon, but we’d be happy to help you get there. If you want to see us after that, all you have to do is ask for Rosaline and Stretta to bring you over to the office for a visit, okay  ♥ ?”

Quick to corroborate her co-worker’s suggestion, Milly nodded enthusiastically the moment her utterance came to an end.

“Mhm, that’s right! We’ll be around if you need us. I don’t know if those two teachers said anything to you, but in case they haven’t, I’ll say it again:

“Welcome to Gregg Daniels Elementary School, Nicol.” 

-

In every profession, the reasons that motivate potential practitioners to take up its mantle and contribute to the fields that they concern are as various as the practitioners themselves. Be it financial freedom, employment security, or even personal interest, there is always  _ something _ about a professional position that renders it preferable to certain types of individuals.

Broadly speaking, the shape that these motivations take on is irrelevant. Much like personal preference, their existence can be reduced to the ubiquity of the human condition, and the innate desire for fulfillment that is associated with it. That different professions offer different forms of motivation to different individuals is a boon; a socio-economic divider application is not only accepted, but unobtrusive.

Not all of these motivations are constructed equally. For example, a doctor who approaches their profession in search of fantasies that might satisfy a long-harbored god-complex are typically shunned as ‘twisted’ by those who learn of their predilections. Similarly, a firefighter who regularly plunges themselves into life-threatening situations so as to be viewed as a hero by those around them is typically regarded as having little respect for the lives that they save.

At the very bottom of this ‘chain of moral severity’ are young female school teachers whose motivation for teaching is focused on tempting the adult male parents of their students, and in certain cases, their male children. Oft regarded as harmless by even the most ardent stalwarts for moral quality, the varying severity of the temptation that they put out and the differing consequences (if any) that it amounts to is such that complaining about the subject is felt to be non-sensical by those presented with the idea. Whereas a misguided firefighter or doctor may one day threaten human lives in search of additional ‘motivation’, one such misguided teacher can do little more than instigate the occasional marital dispute (or in the case of male children, instigate a longing destined to be unrequited) whilst pursuing their motivation.

The keyword in this is uniformly regarded as ‘temptation’. For them, the motivation that they require to truly enjoy their positions is bought through suggestion rather than action—towing a given line as opposed to regularly crossing it. As a result of this, the extent to which their behavior can violate the norms expected of a ‘normal’ individual in the profession is contained within a boundary that is difficult to scrutinize.

More important than this is the fact that ‘temptation’ can be enacted subconsciously and indirectly. By simply coupling certain behaviors with a belief that they, and the results that they reap are normal, a woman can acquire the motivation that she desires without having to bear the psychological burden associated with seeking it out intentionally.

In this is a vindication rarely offered in the pursuit of selfish gain. By dressing oneself in a combination of pliant yoga-pants liable to accentuate the excess of squishy buttocks fat affixed to their rear alongside a ‘modest’, waist-length hoody unzipped to accommodate the gargantuan swell of the t-shirt smothered breasts beneath it, a young woman can claim to be presenting herself fashionably and at the same time attract attention from those around her. By simply  _ believing _ that she is doing the former, what is suggested by her behaviour is made irrelevant—after all, another woman uninterested in such perverse motivation could very easily do the same.

Spared from scrutinization and forgotten for their harmlessness, the ‘difficulties’ that await young women who seek this motivation can be summarized with a single maxim:

Not all attention is necessarily ‘good’ attention.

-

**SEPTEMBER 7** **TH** **MORNING—THE CLASSROOM OF SAMANTHA KRIEST**

“Okay, class! As you can see, I’ve written several equations across the board here at the front. They’re very similar to the problems we’ve worked on together using the online module I prepared, so I think you should be able to manage them.”

“Can I see a show of hands for volunteers to come up and solve them for the rest of the class? I’ll be right here to help, so there’s no need to be shy, either. We’re all still learning, so all that matters is that you give it your very best effort, okay  ♥ ?”

Behind the latest of her child-friendly admonishments, Samantha Kriest intentionally shifted her standing position at the front of her classroom to one closer to the desk setup at its top-left corner. Gait slow and oddly saunter-like, her progression jostled the doughy meat affixed to her chest and rear into a mild fit of wobbling liable to draw any and all wandering eyes within the room towards her.

Seemingly unaware of this fact, her arrival at her destination saw her forcibly redirect the attention she had garnered for herself back towards the whiteboards at the front of the room. After hopping atop the lip of her desk and angling her seated position to face her students, she curled her left hand up into a pensive bracing of her chin.

This done, she began projecting her voice in a manner that presented the gesture not as a preparation for thought, but for broadcasted rumination.

“You know, there were some videos I wanted to watch online with you guys before the end of class, but it’s much more important that I make sure that everyone is learning…” she began, tone oddly petulant for her position. “We  _ might _ still be able to if we finish the lesson early, but to do that, we’d have to get through all of the example questions as quickly as possible.”

“It’d really be so much easier if we had some volunteers...”

Some enraptured by the sadness in their adorable teacher’s suggestions and others by the prospect of indulging in meme compilations on the internet during class time, Samantha’s musing fished volunteers for her math problems up to the front of the room within seconds of one another. Unafraid of displaying her approval at the sight, the sadness on her face was instantaneously replaced by an approving, closed-eyed smile when all five of her equations were taken up by a student from the classroom’s back-half.

Utterly content, Samantha persisted in the position she had assumed under the pretence of observing their work and correcting them where necessary. 

In actuality, her presence was as much for them as it was for herself.

Even now, not all of the attention she had garnered with her address had been redirected towards the whiteboard at the room’s peak. Nevertheless willing to gently swing her legs back and forth amidst their dangle from over the edge of her desk—an activity that jostled her torso just enough to incite a perpetual bouncing of her breasts—her ‘response’ to the eyes left on her person was one of invitation.

Whilst her eyes and focus busied themselves with her class’ learning, her frame unconsciously toyed with the attentions of its male population such that the work being done at the front of the room was likely to be missed by any youth unwilling to focus firmly on the ‘task at hand’.

Quiet and harmless; the circumstance created by Samantha’s action played out without interruption for minutes on end. Left alone, its serenity may well have carried it as far as the next ‘planned interruption’ that Samantha had prepared for her lesson.

However, 5 minutes into its duration, it was disrupted—

The door to the classroom was pushed open, and a pair of sneaker-clad, child-sized feet suspended in midair were lowered into contact with the ground.

Subsequently, the circumstance she had created was replaced by one very different in nature.

“Wow, cool! So this is what classrooms look like now!” Nicol exclaimed, happily. “Oh, it looks like everyone’s doing math problems--I should sit down and start too, right?”

Freshly reintroduced to the interior of a classroom, Nicol whipped his head over his shoulder in search of approval for his assumptions from the women behind him. Opting to defer to the educators that had accompanied them, both Milly and Purei looked towards one another awkwardly before shifting their gazes back towards the elderly women at the classroom’s mouth.

Prompted, both Rosaline and Stretta progressed into the classroom up to positions where Nicol could see them.

Here, they nodded and spoke.

“Yes, you should, dear.” she began, softly. “There are plenty of empty desks at the back of the classroom, so we’ll worry about finding one for you.”

“One thing at a time, though, ok? You haven’t said hello to your teacher yet, and there are other students here who are already working, too.”

Forgetful whilst excited (much like any other child), Rosaline’s address resulted in Nicol’s reigning himself in immediately. Adopting complete silence, he turned back towards the classroom’s interior and set off on a quiet patter towards the adult woman seated at the left end of the room. Paying no attention to the fact that his presence had effectively halted all work being done in the classroom, the single-mindedness of his approach soon bled into a single-minded address and a single-minded fixation on the person that was to be his teacher for the foreseeable future.

At the edge of her desk, he addressed her as a child completely certain of the words coming out of their mouth.

“Hi! You’re Ms. Kriest, right?” he asked, tone bent between what one might use for a statement of fact and genuine curiosity. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Nicol ____ ; I’m gonna be a student in your class for a little while, I guess.”

Now introduced to the older woman (by his definition of the term), Nicol moved straight onto issues he deemed to be far more pressing than their identities.

“I wanna get started on the math problems on the board, but first, can I borrow you for a bit? Behind your desk, I mean.” he continued. “It shouldn’t take too long since you’re so cute, buuuuut I still think it’ll be fun, haha.”

So as to make his meaning unambiguous, Nicol proceeded to the location he had mentioned ahead of Samantha with the expectation that she’d follow.

To some extent, he understood that Samantha’s approach was not a matter of ‘if’, but of ‘when’. Thus, when the woman abandoned her seat atop the edge of her desk and curled her way around to its backside, the time that a normal child might’ve spent stunned by surprise was spent by him appreciating the sumptuous ‘traits’ that his teacher maintained.

Notably more youthful than any of the other teachers he had come into contact with, the smoothness of her skin and the well-kept arrow-head of greyish-white hair atop her head reminded him of the highschool-aged girls he had interacted with months prior. Parted to perfectly frame both edges of her face without covering them and styled to leave a single, vertically-set tuft of hair in between the forehead-obscuring curtains to either side of it, the ‘freshness’ of its composition succeeded at holding his attention for several seconds as well.

Per usual, though, his line of sight fell to the fabric-swelling meat of her ass the moment she turned at the edge of her desk to join him. As far as he could tell, an inanely ripe peach of doughy, fat-laden flesh served as the foundation for her buttocks. Covered underneath flexible grey fabric designed to accommodate their movement, the ¾ length yoga pants instead made it seem as though the flesh pillows were far fatter and squishier than they actually were.

Were it that the gropeable spheres were presented for more than a second or so, Nicol’s line of sight would have been held towards them indefinitely. Instead, as Samantha’s approach accentuated her presentation from the front, his eyes fell on the bouncing F-Cup breasts sealed within her hoodie. Enveloped first within the miniaturized piece of outerwear and doubly-so by the thin white t-shirt underneath it, their presentation left a fair fraction of their qualities to the imagination. Despite this, the flesh-colored cleavage exposed near the peak of both garments and the arrant jiggling that the mounds endured for each step that Samantha took offered Nicol the same visual ‘satisfaction’ that he’d have accrued were she dressed as the school’s secretaries were.

Through his indulgence in these aspects of her frame, Nicol acquired for himself a familiar reward just in time for her arrival behind her desk. However, before he could speak out as the gift’s throbbing dictated, Samantha commemorated her arrival with an utterance of her own.

Based on its contents, Nicol could only assume that the motivation behind her address was the same ‘inherent kindness’ displayed by each and every woman he made contact with.

“Well, here I am! What can I do for you, Nicol?” Samantha began, smiling. “I did hear something about my class receiving a new student—Ms. Laida likes to give all of the teachers a good amount of leeway to make preparations for that sort of thing.”

“She didn’t say anything about their being so adorable, though  ♥ . I want to make your time here at school as fun as possible, so feel free to ask me if you need anything—what you want now included.” she continued, warmly.

This uttered, Samantha adopted silence in anticipation of her newest student’s request. Unperturbed by the miniature entourage that had accompanied him into the classroom and the less-than-standard nature of their attire, her psyche shelved the topics in favor of concentration on whatever Nicol might ask of her.

Within seconds, Nicol’s acceptance of her offer made her feel silly for splitting her focus between the subjects to begin with.

“Oooookay!” elongating his agreement as children were want to, Nicol made certain to make a quick transition into the meat of his response. “If it’s okay, could you lay across that desk right there for a little bit, then? I do want to do my school stuff properly, but after looking at you, I think I’d have a hard time doing it without using you for a little bit first.”

“I don’t think I have much cum to get rid of or anything, so you should be able to suck it out of me with your cunt just fine, don’t you think?”

  
  


What Samantha took away from Nicol’s request was not a violation of social norms rooted in an activity strictly forbidden by both her position and convention. While only minutes into her ‘acclimation’ to Nicol’s presence, her perception of his request—and as a result, her response to it—was no different than what she might’ve produced had another student asked her for a spare pencil.

After chirping out an endearing “Certainly!”, she laid herself flat across the width of her desk. Amidst lowering her breasts into contact its midsection, she pressed the parting of her sneaker-clad feet as far away from one another as she could manage comfortably to present her backside’s assets at their very best. Then, once comfortably settled, she scooted her desk supported frame backwards to avail half of her midsection to his grasp when and if he found a need for it.

A teacher through and through, Samantha had prepared several other preparative actions beyond these in anticipation of Nicol’s needs.

However, none were required. Just as soon as she finished settling herself, what sounded like the legs of a plastic stool colliding with the tiling of the classroom curled her line of sight across her shoulder in search of the noise’s source.

A moment later, the warm hold that her yoga pants provided to the meat of her buttocks disappeared, and a moist spire composed of an even more satisfying warmth was plunged from the mouth of her lower lips down to a depth just short of contact with the exterior of her cervix.

Samantha did not need her eyes to determine what had occurred, and thusly didn’t use them. In their place, she focused her attentions on the throbbing spire responsible for the stinging pleasure ignited within her crotch, and instead allowed her eyelids to flutter blissfully as it travelled up her spine.

Per her lust-charged deductions, she had been beaten to the punch—

Without any sort of warning or moderation, Nicol had plunged the full length of his cock down to a canal-spreading hilt within her cunt.

“Whew, that felt even better than I thought it would!” evidently overcome by the stimulation earned from his first thrust, the first outburst that Nicol produced in its wake was one of childish applause. “All I gotta do now is stir up all this squishy flesh you’ve got plugged up inside you until I can drag out everything that’s been sittin’ in my balls until now.”

“Try to make it as tight as you can, okay?”

As a result of the placement of these utterances and the fact that they had come from Nicol’s mouth, Samantha did not experience any undue difficulty in digesting their contents. In sequence, his applause sent pleasant throbs of fulfillment rippling through her uterus, and his requests readied her innards to produce the tightness that he had requested.

Tragically, neither of these things were allowed to amount to anything. When made to compete with the stimulation imposed on her folds by the retraction of his member’s vein-swathed meat against her inner walls, and later on, the invasive plunge of his 8-inch cudgel down near to the compression of his glans against her cervix, making something of lasting value out of them became the least of Samantha’s concerns.

Opposite her budding desire to ensure that every drop of semen within Nicol’s balls ended up within her womb, these things had no real chance of competition to begin with.

“Mnnyuuughh ♥♥ T-That’s just fine, Nicol; churn up all of my drooling cuntmeat as much as you’d like!” in a display of the true site of her attentions, Samantha’s first real response to Nicol’s advances validated the occurrence. “I-I’ll try my best, okay. J-Jus d-don’t fuck—hhiiiyuhh—m-me too hard, o-okay?”

“Otherwise, all’m gonna do is squirt goopy cuntsyrup all ovier your cock  ♥ !” 

True to her word in spite of her circumstance, Samantha put her very best effort into making the slobbering vicegrip set behind her lower lips into a worthwhile orifice for Nicol to drive his cock into. Right from the outset of his thrusting ministrations, she willed her quivering inner walls into a semblance of cock-milking compression, and soon afterwards began bunting the fat of her asscheeks against the exterior of Nicol’s crotch in time with his thrusts to apply additional depressive force behind the balls-deep drives he pressed inside of her.

Overall, the difficulties that she encountered whilst attempting to maintain these things were directly related to the nature of his thrusting metronome. After the initial skewering of her folds and the full-length retraction that followed, Nicol adopted a disorientingly-sharp reproduction of these motions as the ‘base’ for his masturbation with her innards. Less than a second after peeling his member back through the pressurized envelopment of her folds, he punched himself back down to a ball’s deep depth within her only to wrench himself back out an instant later.

And then he began again.

Unaffected by the regular splutters of thickened female lubricant that were drawn out of her depths each time he vacated them, and evidently galvanized by the moist *PLAPP* induced as his crotch collided with the wobbling fat swelling her asscheeks, motions just like these were strung together one after another until a punishing chain of thrusts was born of the sequence. Mechanical save for an occasional, split-second waffling imposed each time he reeled his glans into compression by the mouth of her cunt, periods wherein Samantha might steady herself and acclimate were kept far enough between one another to render her attempts at contributing to the event mute.

Succinctly, the meat of her cunt was subjected to a stimulation too cutting for it to manage ‘quietly’ at a rate that demanded that it somehow do so anyway. Torso bent forward and lower body propped up on the tips of his toes, each of the thrusts that Nicol delivered followed a slight downward curve whose traversal ground a steeled root of urethra flesh against the floor of her cunt alongside the innumerable noodle-fat blood vessels that branched away from its swell. Trailed from the beginnings of her canal straight down to its back end, the weight backing this grind ensured that every inch of congested canal-lining that his cock was driven across throughout was subjected to the writhing and throbbing of his erection at its very worst. In detail, the difference between what the flooring of her cunt endured relative to its ceiling (or for that matter, its opposing sides), could be likened to the difference of managing a cluster of earthworms atop a frying pan relative to a handful of serpents writhing in search of freedom from suffocation.

To matters worse, this was not the only form of intense stimulation that she endured, either. As Nicol insisted on dragging his member as far back as the beginnings of his glans per thrust, a suction-stymied peeling of his girth back through her folds that bottomed out into a momentary hollowing of her womanhood served as the primary ‘compliment’ for the pleasures wrought from her penetration. Whereas their precedents assaulted her senses with sensations that ranged from the writhing of cock-veins to the choking of her underused canal walls with a rigid pipe of underage phallus flesh, each and every retraction that he managed subjected her to these same two sensations over and over again. For as long as his shaft slid outwards, the peeling of her cuntflesh off of the rugged vascularity of his member like a plaster from off of healed flesh imposed a stinging dispossession onto the meat of her inner walls. Simultaneously, their refusal to submit to Nicol’s repeated retractions resulted in orgasmic splutters of her female lubricant being drawn out of her folds as the ‘seal’ within them was broken.

Unaltered throughout his metronome, the consistency of these sensations served as a ‘chisel’ for the rounded mallet represented by Nicol’s depression. Whilst the latter did the most damage, the former continually thinned the density of Samantha’s internal foundation closer and closer to a state wherein a single well-placed strike might shatter it for good.

Rendered incapable of forestalling this event by the satisfying fullness rifling through her womanhood, Samantha instead focused herself on the only thing that her waning sense of self could manage: contributing to Nicol’s pleasure as best she could.

Soon, though, the weak reciprocations that she managed began to feel insufficient to her. Somehow innately aware of what her tiny suitor required in order to enjoy himself, the extent of her debilitation eventually resulted in her disregarding everything about her position in search of more pleasure for him.

Then and there, this amounted to the unthinkable—

All of a sudden, a school teacher began squealing in sexual bliss out towards a classroom full of children.

“Hiiyghhh I’m gonna cum~! I’mgonnacum I’mgonnaum I’mgonnacum  ♥ ! Nicol’s cock is going to make me squirt in front of my students!”

Lost in her own ecstasy, the finer details of Samantha’s fucking escaped her. Though her exclamations pushed her to hardened the stamping of her assfat against Nicol’s crotch and intensified the *SPLORT* and *PLATCH* noises produced as her assfat was locally compressed against it, their passage saw all control over proceedings passed over to the child that had pushed her to this point.

Were it that this child was not one whose innards were swelled to the brim with semen, this happening would have spelt the end for Samantha's psyche. Only an hour so past his last orgasm, Nicol spent the seconds most immediate to her squeals ignoring the unbothered glances passed at him by his soon-to-be classmates, and accelerating his thrusts in accommodation of the deepened throbbing of his erection.

*PLORT-PLAP-PLORP-PLAT*

So went the slurred cacophony of sexual noise that he gored from Samantha’s crotch until a particularly potent thrust threaded something from the root of his member up to its tip.

In time with its release came an exclamation.

“‘K-kay, I’m going to splatter it all out! Make sure to slurp everything down into your tummy, alright?”

Behind this thrust, an orgasm significant enough to draw Nicol’s chest down into contact with Samantha’s lower back erupted within the core of his mind. Incited by the ejection of a urethra-fattening rope of cockjuice through the tip of his length, its quality dragged the majority of his frame into ‘observation’ of its duration less than a second after it occurred.

Unlike the most ‘commonplace’ of his releases, this one demanded action from his frame as opposed to stillness. After dropping his chest, Nicol felt compelled to drop his palms out of contact with the plush of Samantha’s buttocks and instead wrap his arms into a horizontal embrace of her midsection. Once placed, reflexes activated by the repeated eruption of cockjuice strands through the length of his cock saw him purpose this ‘hug’ to smother the fat of her ass against his crotch more tightly.

Earned from this gesture was an exacerbation of his shaft’s depression into the convulsing warmth of Samantha’s folds, and a curtailment of the distance that the semen strands blurted against (and into) her fertile core were required to travel prior to arriving at their destination.

While insignificant to Nicol past the additional suction and compression that enveloped his length, this change was extremely significant to both Samantha and her folds.

Throughout the final thrust that the boy gored between her lower lips and the segemented ejection of a lengthy strand of cocksludge into her uterus, her psyche had sat within a state of disarray that she had not yet experienced. Overcome by stimulation earned through the syrup-laden orgasms she had endured throughout her fucking, the skewering of her womanhood to such a definitive depth and the dousing of her sex-rawed meat with a balmy deluge of squirming swimmers had pushed her past her already-unimpressive capacity for sexual stimulation.

Nicol’s dragging the penetration of his member deeper still subjected her to a second upturn in stimulation well before her innards were prepared to deal with it. All at once, the jetting of muddy semen strands through the midsection of her cervix became a concentrated funnelling of the pressurized bursts directly through it. Prior to this, the reproductive glut (i.e especially congested volumes of nutrient-fed nut) too thick to be gulped down by her cervix were rejected by the donut’s entrance way and spread across its outer face. Given time, the compilation of these rejected strands was liable to have amounted to a clogging of her cunt from its bottom upwards. Troublesome as this could have been for her senses, no such compilation came to pass. Behind Nicol’s backwards wrenching of her frame, the full length of every virile thread of semen spewed out of his length was delivered into her uterus.

In spite of the organ’s purpose being ‘along the lines’ of housing the substance until the cells contained within it could violate her reproductive system’s eggs, the stimulation that accompanied its plastering to the inner walls of her uterus came as a significant shock to her system. For every thread whose contents were pasted to the organ’s roof, quivers conducted through its interior drew its inner walls just slightly closer together. Consequentially, the semi-solid sludge-layer mounted at its peak made contact with its opposing walls far more quickly than it would’ve otherwise. However contrived, this contact accelerated the inundation of its natural volume with semen within a minute of Nicol’s release.

Beyond this point, what semen remained within his balls proved sufficient to balloon her uterus back into its natural shape. Via the repeated discharge of one forearm-length spurt after another, the compaction of semen against itself within her womb was exacerbated to the point at which a submissive expansion became its sole option. Acting without regard for the pleasure-fried psyche of its owner, the baby-making organ allowed itself to be spread and swelled until every blob of muddy reproductive fluid Nicol had to offer was regurgitated into its midst.

Both throughout this ordeal and directly after it, Samantha’s sole recourse with regards to the greed of her feminine innards was a persistent crossing of her eyes, and stifled cooing directed out at the indifferent school children seated ahead of her desk. Initially strained and incoherent, the bloating of her womb and the novel pleasure that accompanied it willed her into her first strings of genuine speech in minutes.

“Guhhhyuuu I-I’m getting s-stuffed with babyjuice—s-so much goopy cockslime is f-fattening my womb all at once  ♥♥ .” she mewled. “I’m getting bred; sloppy babyjuice is gonna end up squeezing it way inside of my eggs~!”

Though the tiny individuals she shouted these things towards paid no mind to her squealing, the boy responsible for them experienced the noise as a form of wakeup call. Thus far stupefied by the release of his second load of semen on the day, Samantha’s vehemence shocked him into peeling his cheek from out of contact with her mid back. Drawing his drooling maw closed throughout a wobbly retraction of his upper body out of contact with her frame, his return to something resembling an upright standing position behind her saw him do the unthinkable.

At the behest of the nerve endings of his cock, he wrenched his crotch outwards. Stymied by a draining suction that lidded his eyes throughout, he nevertheless succeeded in overcoming the needy suckling of her folds with an air of familiarity and smoothness. When at last the tip of his cock escaped from her lower lips’ grasp—this in turn producing an arousing *PLORP* supplemented by a delayed regurgitation of excess semen out from between her still-spread folds—what was suggested by his motions was firmly supplanted by a visceral presentation of the event’s reality:

The fucking and seeding that Samantha had received from Nicol was unlike anything her innards had endured prior.

“Ahhhh~ That’s much better--thanks so much, Ms. Kriest!” largely unaffected by the orgasm that he had endured, Nicol’s overcoming the dedicated embrace of womanhood drew more relief from the youth than it did debilitating pleasure. “It’s nice to know that I’ll always be able to splatter everything out this way while I’m here at school. It does make me wonder if Milly and Purei would be any better, but that’s only ‘cause of how good you ended up being.”

“Anyway, I guess I’ll go get started on the work problems or something. I think you should get lots of rest, so I’ll ask Rosaline and Stretta to take care of the class if you just wanna lay there for a bit.”

Provided a ‘pass’ by a boy she could not help but adore, Samantha embraced his suggestion with open arms. In deference to her staring students and the mandates of her position, she remained laid out across her desk whilst bulbous globs of semen oozed haggardly from the semen-cratered midsection of her cunt.

All whilst a satisfied smile sat smeared across the lower half of her face.

-

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
